


redemption lies plainly in truth.

by starbucks22



Series: tonight i’m falling, won’t you catch me? [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Post-Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus Black Needs a Hug, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Sirius Black Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbucks22/pseuds/starbucks22
Summary: Then, on top of all of that, his grey eyes can't seem to stay still; they're jumping from Regulus, who is still at the front of the line, to the Minister, to the wall behind them both, and to the windows. He doesn't seem to notice Remus, who is at the back of the group with Harry now, but he does notice Minerva, who shoots him a reassuring smile as if she has any idea what he's going through right now. You’ve got this, the look says, as if he’s still in Hogwarts with her and as if nothing too serious has occurred.OR: Regulus Black and Remus Lupin struggle through (practically) living together, being a werewolf is a problem, the Weasleys are lovely people, a traitor is discovered, and Regulus Black gets his brother back– but at what cost?
Relationships: Regulus Black & Minerva Mcgonagall, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black and Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin & Minerva McGonagall, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Series: tonight i’m falling, won’t you catch me? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031736
Comments: 21
Kudos: 103





	redemption lies plainly in truth.

**Author's Note:**

> this is like. At least 3x as long as it’s original oneshot... oh well. Hope someone enjoys!

On November 3rd, 1981, Regulus Black wakes up to Kreacher bearing chocolate, Harry Potter babbling, and an even more ragged than usual Remus Lupin, collectively sitting at his bedside. 

His eyes take several seconds to adjust. "...What," he croaks out, voice still creaky from sleep. As he sits up and rubs at his eyes, Harry, little but determined, leans toward Kreacher and attempts to nab a piece of chocolate. Keyword: attempts. He doesn't get far before Remus wraps a hand around Harry's arm and gently pulls him away from the sweet. "Hey, wait," a lightbulb dings in Regulus' head as his brain attempts to wake itself up. "That's the baby. Wasn't I supposed to go with you to pick him up? When did you pick him up, anyway?"

"This morning," Remus answers.

Regulus yawns. "How'd it go?" 

"Well, Harry's here in one piece, isn't he? So, everything with him is obviously fine."

"...Yeah." Something about that calm dismissal annoys Regulus, just a bit. He sits up. Remus pulls Harry away from the chocolate once more; the kid just continues to quietly babble, none too concerned about the lack of sugar in his mouth. That doesn't mean he's planning to stop his conquest yet, though. "Clearly. He's quite preoccupied trying to steal- actually, why is Kreacher carrying around a bunch of sweets in the first place?"

"It might cheer you up," is all Kreacher himself has to offer as an explanation.

"I just woke up-" he punctuates this point with a conveniently timed yawn, "- So what could I possibly need cheering up from?"

Kreacher and Remus look rather shifty all of a sudden. Another lightbulb dings.

"What's the date?"

Kreacher responds. "November 3rd."

Regulus pulls himself up into a sitting position, sighing. He's just barely up in time to hear Harry mumble something to Remus, the latter of which pales, (which, since he was already pale when he walked in, does not bode well for his complexion), and quickly hands the baby to Regulus, offering not even a crumb of explanation.

"What-" is all he's able to get out, before his hands are full of a small child. 

At least there's one plus side to this. Harry glances up at him, showing no complaints about being passed off so suddenly. 

"Don't children usually... cry when they have to be around strangers? Or when they're passed off to strangers?" Testing the child's patience to see what all will be allowed, he pulls the black haired kid onto his knee and starts bouncing him, looking down as the boy gently pulls on a few strips of Regulus' dangling black hair. Harry still doesn't get upset- he just continues to stare up at him as he giggles away, without a care in the world.

At least, for a few seconds.

Remus snatches a piece of chocolate as he watches the baby giggle away. He's almost scowling harder than Regulus has ever seen him scowl before. 

Regulus is about to confront him, but the man is already speaking.

"He might think that he recognizes you," he explains. "He must not know the difference yet. Just give him a minute, and he'll realize that he doesn't know you after all.  Then he'll freak out."

"Know the difference from what? And how can he recognize me when I've never met him before?"

"Like I said, I don't think he knows that-"

Just then, Harry, displeased by the lack of bouncing and warm smiles that he's getting, reaches over and yanks on Regulus' hand. It's a lot stronger than a fifteen-month-old ought to have, probably. 

Regulus obediently looks down at him. "Yes?"

"Pa'foo." 

Regulus blinks. "What?"

"Pa'foo," the child repeats, patiently. He points one chubby finger at the man holding him. "Pa'foo." He seems to be waiting for something; some specific reaction, probably.

"That doesn't- what? Are you looking for a stuffed animal? A snack? I'm pretty sure that I can find something suitable for a baby around here. Do you want more attention? What do you want?" The words burst out of him in a worried, half frantic paragraph. He's still barely awake and has absolutely no idea what this happy-go-lucky kid is trying to tell him, and it's November 3rd, and his brother isn't here, and Remus is a total mess but trying to hide it, and everything is so hard. "Are you hungry? Are you thirsty- what am I doing, you're a baby, you're not just going to tell me." 

Harry abruptly ceases his babbling. He pulls himself out of Regulus' lap and onto the soft bed below, studying the man with a sharpness that lets him know this child is definitely going to make something out of himself someday. 

Then, his emotions do a full 180. 

"Pa'foo," he whines, shaking his head. He's still pointing at Regulus. "No no no."

"What?" Regulus wonders, looking entirely lost. 

"Master Regulus," another voice cuts in. When he looks over at Kreacher, the elf is pointing at the bedroom door, where Professor McGonagall has somehow entered unnoticed by everyone- well, except for Kreacher, it seems, who has just been waiting for a good opening to let them know someone was coming over in the first place. 

Harry looks over at McGonagall briefly, but even the new presence isn't enough to calm him down.

"No no no no," he repeats the word like it's a lifeline. He's reached the point of physically slapping Regulus, who just stares down at him in utter bewilderment. It seems like the mere sight of the man's face sets him off again, because the baby adamantly refuses to quiet down. "No Pa'foo! No!"

"Does he or does he not want whatever Pa'foo is? I can't read this kid's mind! I don't understand! Why is he hitting me?"

Meanwhile, McGonagall calmly surveys the scene- a wailing baby, a panicked Regulus, and Remus, who looks like he'd pole vault across the bed and out the door if it would get him out of the situation he's in. 

"Hello," she calls out, albeit a bit more hesitantly than she's intending. 

Remus stands to greet her, his hand out for her to shake. "Professor McGonagall, hello."

"None of that," she waves the formality off, but does shake his hand. "I'm not your professor anymore. You can call me Minerva, just like everybody else does."

He looks a bit uncomfortable with this, but does not outright refute it. 

"I've come to see how you're all getting along, but it seems that I've come at a bad time." She motions behind her, then at Remus himself, who merely blinks at her. "You don't seem like you're doing very well, but I can't blame you. I'm not feeling the best myself, and I didn't know James or Lily as much as you do. Do you want me to try calming Harry down?"

"No point in it. He's either going to relax on his own when he gets tired in a little while, or I'm gonna have to find a babysitter so he isn't around Regulus any longer."

"Is he what's setting him off?"

"Immensely. Did you notice what's he's saying?"

She nods.

"And its not like I can just... ship Harry off to Padfoot, so..."

Remus pulls a face. McGonagall copies him. 

Back when Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter were at Hogwarts together, they called one another by their nicknames just as often as they used their actual names, if not more. Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs. She doesn't know where the nicknames came from or why they exist, but she can take a wild guess. 

(Even if her hunch is correct, which it probably is- she's an Amimagus, for goodness' sake, and they all knew that. Did those boys think she wouldn't notice them going silent for an entire month, claiming a vow of silence? Really? -She still hasn't said anything. Plus, if she somehow is wrong, most people don't appreciate someone being convinced they've done something illegal.)

"Can someone," Regulus hisses out, looking quite ready to chuck Harry at someone and bolt, "Explain what on Earth a Pa'foo is and why this kid is so incredibly mad that I'm not it? Or that I don't have it? Or that I can't give him it?"

Harry babbles again. 

"Pa'foo means Padfoot. Padfoot is a person," Remus manages to say, as if that clarifies everything. 

"Is, you said. So, Padfoot is alive. Just take the kid to Padfoot already, then! Boom, done, problem solved. A supervised visit! Especially if it'll make him stop whining."

"Pa'foo!" Harry whines louder.

Regulus, having apparently had enough, picks the squirming child up and passes him off to Remus. Harry abruptly goes silent. Remus passes him to McGonagall, who witnesses the silence from both man and baby, and instinctively knows something is about to go wrong. On the surface, it definitely looks like a good thing that Harry is finally calming down, but if she knows anything, she knows children, and she knows that, realistically, he would not have completely shut off if this is a good thing.

And, sure enough- 

"Where Mama and Dada?"

The room stills so much so quickly that an outsider would be convinced they were all hit by a  Silencio  at the same time, that's how little noise they are making.

Regulus breaks it first. "Oh buggering fuck," he whispers, softly, but with feeling. 

Remus jerks up. 

The bedroom door shuts with a bang.

*

Twenty minutes later, Remus re-emerges. 

"I'm sorry."

Regulus blinks. "You're sorry?"

"Yes." He nods. 

"No! You didn't do anything wrong. If I was in your situation-"

"You are. Padfoot is your brother."

Regulus quickly mentally files this away for later, and pretends that this doesn't mean anything for now.

"Perhaps. But Harry's parents weren't exactly close to  me.  I can't believe I didn't think to ask, but... are you okay? Not just now, I mean, but in general. Are you doing alright?"

"Peachy. Doing just grand."

"Look-"

Remus doesn't let him finish. "I got Harry and made sure he's all safe and sound. I got him here with no problems along the way. You have food and water. It looks like you're all set." He isn't looking at Regulus. "So, I'll just get out of everyone's hair. I'll see you all later."

Regulus doesn't get the chance to protest. McGonagall, who is still holding Harry, does it first. "You'll do no such thing."

"What?" He looks over at her, at least, which is better than no eye contact at all. "Professor-"

"Minerva."

"-Minerva, I'm not just going to stick around and force myself into anyone's life."

"And you think that we find leaving you all alone the preferable option?" Regulus finds his voice. "No. Just take a look at yourself. You're not doing too hot, buddy."

"So, what? I'll get over it. I'll be  fine.  You don't need to fuss."

"I'm not fussing." He stands up taller, his voice goes a bit lower, a bit more aristocratic and haughty like it used to be, back when he was just starting out at Hogwarts and still utterly convinced that his parents were correct about everything, back when he was still sure that they were people he follow behind and trust. As his head tilts upward more, his short hair drapes around his face, framing it like it's a picture to be hung. He feels like he hasn't been this version of himself- calm, collected, refined- in years, but something inside of him is saying that he has to be the strongest one here, when everyone else around him is in pieces.

That's not to say he's doing amazingly, because he's not. He's just not doing as badly as everyone else is, which is not something he's been able to say in years. He's not used to be the less upset one, the one with the smallest amount of immediate problems to deal with.

And, quite frankly? 

Remus has been so  un-Remus  lately that he's kind of concerned. 

"If I were fussing, you would know it. I do not  fuss."

"Well, good. I'm not in the business of wanting it-  or needing it,  for that matter, so you can just sit yourself down."

He does not.

"Oh, that's a lie. You definitely need it. You're just too stubborn to suck it up and accept that you might not be doing 'just peachy' right now."

" I'm fine."

"You're a liar.  I've known you to be avoidant before, but I've never known you to be a full out  liar."

Oddly enough, this seems to calm Remus down enough for him to look away from McGonagall. Well... long enough for his panic to evolve into calm, then for his calm to evolve into a  very  unfamiliar anger.

"I am not a liar, Regulus! Just, for Merlin's sake, give me a break already!"

"Remus-"

"I'm only here to drop off Harry, right? You don't need to look so concerned."

"Remus-"

"Lay off of it."

More insistently, now, "Remus."

"I'll be fine."

*

He is not fine. 

*

They develop a system. 

During the morning to early afternoon, Regulus will watch Harry while Remus leaves to go job searching; at night, Remus will watch Harry while Regulus gets some time to wind down and relax. If he's tired enough, Remus will just crash at Grimmauld Place for the night- not that this was his idea, but the other two refused to let him go back to a place they knew paled in comparison. They haven't even seen Remus' apartment, which he's away from more often than not, anyway. Remus ends up staying over more often than not, but Regulus and Minerva seem pleased the more he does so, so he just learns to accept the generosity. 

It only takes until November 10th for their plan to develop a fracture. 

"Hey."

Remus walks through the door, which immediately strikes Regulus as odd, because it's only noon. Harry, for his part, smiles adorably and goes back to his toy blocks and cuddling his stuffed wolf that Regulus is sincerely unsure where it came from. 

"Hi...?"

"So, I just need to give you a heads up on the change of plans."

"Change of plans?"

"Yeah. I can't watch Harry tomorrow night."

"What?" Normally, this wouldn't be so much of a problem, but he has plans to meet up with his mother for dinner tomorrow night. (He doesn't actually want to eat with her in the first place, nor does he wish to be around her at all, but he already convinced his mother to move out of Grimmauld a few years back, and even though that was a while ago, he can't really risk making her mad yet. Especially after Sirius... wait. Sirius. Has she even heard about what happened a few days ago?) "You can't have plans. I have plans!"

Remus crosses his arms and, in search for something to look at so he won't be glaring at Regulus. glances down at Harry. In his arms is his stuffed wolf toy, grey, fluffy, and innocent looking. Harry sees him staring and forms a reasonable assumption; he thinks his parent's friend wants him to share it, so he hands it over to him. However, that is not even slightly what Remus wants. (Unlike Regulus, he  does  know where Harry got it from, and he was present when the child first received it.) He blinks down at it for a second and tosses it at him so quickly a bystander would think it was burning, or something else awfully painful. Harry doesn't hesitate in grabbing it and cuddling it again. He can't see what the problem is. 

"I can't get out of mine. Trust me, if I could, I would. So you need to cancel yours."

(Later on, Regulus will remember that Remus is not being a dick, but is instead preparing to transform as a werewolf, without his friends, for the first time in years. While grieving. And lonely. And with a child he's partially responsible for. But at the moment, none of these things cross his mind, and he thinks Remus is just trying to shirk off his responsibilities.)

"Yeah, and I can't get out of mine! Mine is spending time with my mother, and you know how getting her mad goes over. Not well! So, move some things around, and watch Harry tonight."

"I can't." His voice comes across as more of a growl than anything, yet Regulus still does not connect the dots. "Trust me, if there was any way on this planet that I could, then I would take it. But I can't. So please, just cooperate with me for once." He sounds so desperate that Regulus has no choice but to at least try and think of another alternative, but he has no ideas.

"I-" Wait. Like magic, he suddenly sees a new option. "Molly."

"Molly?" Remus asks, a bit skeptically. He doesn't know her nearly as much as he probably should, but what he knows of her is positive.

"Yes. Molly Weasley. Can't she watch Harry for the night, and I can just pick him up in the morning? That way, I don't have to blow off my mother, and you don't have to blow off... whatever it is you're up to tonight that's just so important."

There's really no other choice.

"Alright. I'll let her know that I'll be Flooing over."

*

Molly Weasley looks up from her stitching to see Regulus Black enter her living room via fireplace, and witnesses him fall flat on his face.

He clambers to his feet, brushing off his clothes, and his less than graceful entrance. "Sorry about that." Not far behind him, Harry does the same.

Molly peeks around Regulus. "Well, hi there." Her eyes dart back up to the other adult, silently questioning if the clumsy little child is really Harry Potter?

"Harry, you should go meet the other children. I've heard there's quite a few around here that you can go play with. Maybe you'll make some friends." He's honestly not sure if children under the age of two can really have friends, but he does know that they can have play dates. 

Molly nods, catching his drift. "Oh, yes! There's my youngest and only girl, Ginny," she motions over to where her husband is rocking a bright haired baby girl in a little, equally red handmade jumper. "And over there is my youngest son, Ron. I think he's around your age, actually! Won't it be fun to have a new friend to play with?"

She motions over to a red headed, toddling child, who comes excitedly over to his mother when his name is called.

"After that I have my two twin boys named Fred and George-" somewhere outside, a loud crash sounds. Molly pulls a face. "They're outside, clearly enough. They're a bit older than you and Ron, but not by too much; they're around two years older than you." 

"So, they're around three-years-old?" Regulus inquires politely, even though he just really wants to get the whole babysitting thing situated so he can go handle his mother problems.

Molly nods. "Yes. So far I've mentioned Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George... which leaves me with Percy, Charlie, and Bill."

"Hello," a new voice interjects, as yet another red headed child makes his appearance. However, this is the first one to actually speak. "My name is Percy." The child holds up one hand. His other hand is holding a rather plump rat. "I'm this many!"

"He's five," yet another new voice cuts in, as if the hand the child is holding up doesn't already make this fact already shown. This one is taller than Percy, and his voice is a tad bit deeper, but there don't seem to be very many visible differences. between him and his younger brother. "I'm not, though. I'm nine-years-old, and my name is Charlie. I can't remember whether we've met before or not. I assume not, though you do look really familiar. I just can't put my finger on why..."

He leans forward, and sticks out his hand.

Regulus shakes it. 

"Nice to meet you, Percy and Charlie."

"Oh!" Percy chimes in again, leaning forward to echo his older brother's action. The problem is, he doesn't let go of the rat he's holding to do so. 

Regulus wouldn't have paid much attention to the animal at all if it hadn't let out an unholy shriek and started squirming like its tail is on fire the very second it lays its eyes on the bewildered nineteen-year-old. 

"Wha- does it just not like me or something?"

The younger of the two children frowns. The rat keeps wriggling. "Huh. He's never done that to new people before. Or... many people at all, before." He turns his head away, and turns it over toward where baby Ginny is now being held by Charlie. "Do you know what's wrong with Scabbers?" He turns back to Regulus. "He's usually such a civilized rat. Nothing like my younger brothers at all. I don't know why he's acting this way."

"Why're you asking me?" Charlie wonders, not looking away from the baby he's been cooing at. As if thinking he would leave her, Ginny clutches onto his arm and doesn't let go.

"Well, I can't ask Bill, he's at Hogwarts! You're the second oldest, so I figured maybe you'd know. The older you are means that you're smart, right?"

"He's your rat, not mine! And if age means smartness, then why don't you ask Mr... what did he say his name was? His first and last?”

"Regulus Black,” he says his name. 

Charlie nods. "Yeah, his name is Mr. Regulus. Why don't you just ask him? He looks almost old enough to be out of school. That's gotta make him smart. Plus, he's older than Bill."

"I can't ask Mr. Black! He's the one that was asking about Scabbers in the first place."

"Well, how would I know that?"

"You would have, if you were paying any attention before I called your name."

"Now, why would I do that?"

Percy frowns. "Because it's the nice thing to do, that’s why! I’d listen to you!”

Regulus is still staring at the nervous rat. Something is striking him as odd, and at first, he can't quite figure out what it is... until Percy scoots a bit closer and allows him to take a closer look. 

"Molly?"

She looks back over at him, clearly distracted. She snatches Scabbers out of her son's iron clad grip. "Yes?"

"Most rats don't normally have a toe missing, do they?"

She shrugs, as if this is a matter of minor importance. "Probably not, but he's a perfectly healthy animal otherwise."

Maybe it really isn't a major matter... but for some indiscernible reason, it strikes Regulus as particularly strange. 

He isn't even sure why, but he quickly files it away to be thought about on another day, instead of just letting it go. 

Without anymore thoughts lent toward the oddity, and a quick goodbye to the Weasley clan and Harry, he heads off to eat with his mother. 

*

Remus doesn't arrive back in Grimmauld Place until very early morning on November 12th, which is two entire days since he left in the first place.

He comes stumbling, bruises and brand new scars littering his beaten body, with bleary eyes and uncooperative ears, into the building's first floor.

There’s nobody in the room that he’s in. He must be walking his way through the first floor, trying to find a person, for at least ten minutes. 

Harry notices him first, and he is not subtle about it. 

"MOONY!" the child squeals, racing out of the kitchen, and attempting to climb his way into his 'Moony's' lap. When Remus clambers to get a better grip on the wall behind him, but fails and ends up splattered on the floor, Harry picks up that something is wrong. 

He pauses. 

"REGGY!"

Regulus has never actually heard that particular nickname used by that particular person before, nor has he actually heard that nickname at all since the beginning of his Hogwarts years, but he hears the panic in his kid's voice clear as day.

He comes barreling into the living room and abruptly freezes in place. The movement is so jarring from his previous panic that he almost falls over, but he steadies himself just in time. It really won't do to have both adults collapsing, after all. They really can't do with just the one that’s already on the floor remaining there, either. 

"Why is Remus laying on the floor?"

Harry shakes his head; he has no idea. All he knows is that Remus clearly needs some sort of medical attention. He points. "Reggy, Moony."

"Yes, I see him. He is very hard to miss, thanks.”

He shakes his head again, then points at Remus, then at Regulus, then once again to Remus. “Moony," he deliberately says, watching the adult, evidently waiting for something. Remus looks at him, paying attention- or, well, paying attention as much as he can. Then he points at Regulus a second time. "Reggy."

When nobody says anything, Harry huffs. On wobbling legs, he toddles over to the younger adult and pulls on his hand.

Realization clicks. “Oh! You want to take me to him?"

He nods; Regulus allows himself to be dragged, and silently does inventory of his medical supplies. It would also help if he knew just  how  bad this is- after all, the wounds could be much more shallow than meets the eye, though the way Remus responds to Grimmauld Place's low, eerie lights, makes that seem pretty unlikely. So, he tests it. To a certain extent, anyway. It’s hardly professional– after all, he’s not a doctor, but that’s besides the point. 

He steps back a bit, ready to catch the older man in his arms if necessary. "Remus, can you stand up for me?"

Worryingly, Remus does not. Or maybe can not. Instead, he slowly props his elbow up onto the cold, hard living room tile, repeats the action with his other elbow, and shakily positions himself so that he can sit down a bit easier.

"Okay... you can sit up, at least." Knowing how inconvenient it could be if he can't even get the other man on his feet, he changes his tactic. "Look, I'm right here if you happen to fall. I can scatter a bunch of pillows and blankets around, so you'll have something soft to fall back on, too. But I really need you to try to stand, or it’ll be a lot harder to help you, and I want to help you. You got in here on your own, didn't you? I'm sure you can do it again!"

Nothing happens.

"I believe in you."

Harry, at Remus' side, nods. "Harry beve."

"Beve?" questions Regulus. 

" Beve."

"That's – that’s not a word, that’s not even close to being a word... unless you mean believe? Is that what you mean?”

Harry nods yet again. "Beve!"

"Alright then... Rem, what do you say?"

The nickname, which he had been expecting to at least get a positive reaction out of, backfires. Sadness entered the pain that's stretched across his face. Regulus opens his mouth to take it back, confused but instinctively knowing he said the wrong thing, but before he can, the sadness is gone in an instant; if he hasn't been paying such good attention, he likely never would have noticed it in the first place.

However, the use of an unexpected nickname does have one positive consequence. Remus does try to scramble to his feet again. 

This time, though, he manages it, however briefly. Within seconds, he falls back to the floor with a thump that sounds much louder than it normally would, since it’s coupled with the echoing walls and the deathly silent company. 

He does not actually crash as hard as he should, though, since he’s caught by a fumbling Regulus, who hands him a pillow he can at least rest his head on. 

"Okay. Now we know the answer to that question... and since standing is an issue, walking is out of the picture, I'm assuming."

He nods. 

"Right. Good to know... but I think we need to take you to St. Mungos."

Remus, for the first time that morning, croaks out a syllable that actually resembles a word. Upon closer listening, Regulus recognizes that it actually  is  one. "No."

"Wha– Merlin, how are you telling me  no  right now? You can't even walk! You can hardly stand! You can’t just refuse to go the hospital that you very obviously need!”

Stubbornly, he replies again, “No."

" Yes-"

Their argument doesn't go any further than some rather childish  no's  and  yes'  before Grimmauld Place's Floo chimes a happy little tune and McGonagall's head is sticking out of the green, fiery flames that are obviously included in a fireplace.

"Professor McGonagall," Regulus tightly greets. He truly does not have time for this. “What a surprise. I... am kind of in the middle of something. Do you need something?”

"Hello," she greets in return, not nearly as strained. That is, until she takes a better look around the room. Her eyes almost instantly land on Remus, who still looks like a train ran him over. “What. What is going on?”

"I don't know!" Regulus stresses, once again forgetting the only possible reason Remus could be in this bad of a shape so suddenly. He's never seen him like this before. In his panic, he totally forgets that werewolves are a thing that exist- and that one of them is falling apart on his living room floor. “You need to get through here and help, please! I can heal a little bit, but I'm not that great at it, and he really needs medical attention. Some that’s better than some nineteen-year-old with no medical attention hoping he doesn’t stab an artery while trying, or something. I tried telling him I'd take him to St. Mungos-"

"No," Remus croaks, again.

Regulus points at him. "But he did that. I don't know what to do. I’d just drag him there myself but I still have Harry and I’m not sure that Remus can’t fight me even in his condition.”

For a second, even McGonagall, amazing and well knowing as she is, looks dumbfounded. That doesn't last long, however, seeing as she quickly gets her wits back. "We can call Poppy down here. You'd have to allow her through your wards, of course, but she'd be able to help."

He hesitates, unsure if he really wants to take that risk or not, especially now that he has such a small child living with him... and especially since a vast majority of the Wizarding World is thoroughly convinced that he's dead. "What are the odds that Remus gets better without her?"

He knows the answer to that already, or we wouldn’t be so panicked as he is. 

McGonagall takes another look at the older man before bluntly going, "The odds aren't looking very good. Let me call Poppy, now."

He doesn't hesitate anymore, just maneuvers himself around better so he can sit closer to Remus, wrapping one of his arms around the man as gently as he possibly can. He doesn't want to hurt him any more than he already is, but he wants to give him comfort.

(Plus, he's gotten rather attached to Remus, lately. He won't admit this if you ask him. The sentiment goes both ways, but he doesn't know that yet.) 

"I'll heal," grunts Remus pathetically, but he makes no move to get away from Regulus' arms. "Don't worry."

"In the past two days, I've heard a grand total of five words from you, and all of them are while you're in pain. You disappeared and showed back up here with no word of warning, only to collapse on the floor, looking half dead. So, forgive me if I'm just a tad bit stressed out right now!"

Standing ahead of them now, McGonagall leans down, wraps Harry up tightly in her arms, and grips Regulus' arm. "I'd ask you to keep a hold on Remus so we can Apparate," she begins drily, staring down at the two intertwined, "But I suppose that you have that handled?"

"Yes, I do. We can go, if the rest of you are all secured and ready to leave, of course?”

"Wait." Remus points over at Harry. "Apparition? With a one-year-old?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice. Let’s leave.”

With a nod from McGonagall and a loud Pop! that makes the baby giggle and clap his little hands delightedly, the four vanish from Grimmauld Place, completely out of sight.

*

The landing is much rougher than the initial take off. 

Remus moans from the ground. Regulus catches him from crashing too hard, just in time, as his knees threaten to buckle and send him crashing into the cold, messy dirt. The latter of the two lifts his head and looks around; he can see Hogwarts in the distance, and the way Poppy Pomfrey is heading toward them with all the force of a bull in a china shop.

"What happened?"

They all look toward her; she is already surveying the scene.

When nobody immediately answers, she repeats her question, more insistently this time.

"I was hoping you'd know the answer to that," Regulus quietly speaks up. "He hasn't exactly been in the state of mind to properly explain." He juts his head at Remus, who has yet to regain the ability to stand again. 

"So you thought I'd be able to figure it out by myself."

"...I feel like I should say no,” he says, but he nods anyway. “Look, that's besides the point. We need your help. I have the money, that's of no concern, but...”  Is my last name going to be a problem? Is my past going to be one?  “Is it going to bother you if I stay with Remus? Because, if you’ll only help him if I leave, I can accept that. I just need to know.”

"Of course I'm going to help," she snaps. “And of course I’m not just going to kick you out, unless I need to for medical reasons. What kind of nurse do you take me for? Shove over."

Smartly, he does so. 

"I know you don't know what happened, but do you have any idea?"

Pomfrey shrugs. "What was yesterday?"

"Oh, the date? It was the-"

"Sorry, I don’t need to know the date. Let me elaborate. How often do you pay attention to the cycles of the moon?"

"Uh, never." That's a lie. He isn't obsessed with it, but he pays close attention to it every other month or so. He fails to see how this is relevant, though. What does the moon have to do with anything?

(The answer, it turns out, is a lot.)

"Poppy," Remus, who's now situation on some sort of stretcher, seems to disapprove of something. "No.  Do not.”

"Mr. Lupin," she begins, voice set to scold, "You haven't been this badly off in years. I respect your right to privacy, especially in matters such as these, but from what I've gotten out of Mr. Black, you can hardly even move. This has gotten out of hand."

"Don't."

"I haven't said anything. I recognize that you don’t wish to, but you need to. You need somebody around who can help you to the best of their abilities when things get bad like this again.” 

"I can't just blurt something out like that!”

"You want to bet? I bet you can.”

Regulus is already getting tired of the back and forth. “Look, I don't care who does it, but somebody better explain what's going on right now."

Poppy shoots one of her patented stern glares at Remus. 

Remus finally caves.

He points a finger at himself, then another at his many, many injuries. "Werewolf."

"...Werewo-" Realization hits Regulus like a wrecking ball.  How could I have possibly forgotten?  Who just forgets that their brother's best friend is an actual werewolf? It’s like, despite the fact it’s literally right in front of his face, his brain just decided that since it doesn’t affect him, he doesn’t need to worry about it. It looks like maybe he should have. “Ohhh..."

Remus squints at his reaction, and forces himself to sit up a bit more. "That's not the face of someone who's surprised by what I have to say."

"I forgot."

"What?" Remus asks; Regulus had mumbled too lowly for him to hear, which is not an easy feat to accomplish on a normal day, and today, just after the full moon, is very assuredly not one of those. 

"I FORGOT," he announces, though this time far too loud. Remus, whose ears are very much Not Cooperating, and barely in working condition right now, (they’re going back and forth in between hearing every little noise that himself, Regulus, Harry, and Pomfrey are making, to having the hearing of a ninety-year-old man, who is not someone like Dumbledore, has), covers his ears as quickly as he can. Seeing how stiffly he's moving, that's not saying very much. 

Eventually, he stills again. "You... forgot."

"Yeah."

"That implies that you knew at some point."

"Yeah."

"Before I or anyone else told you."

With more reluctance this time, "...Yes, I knew. I’ve known for years, but I just... kind of entirely forgot about it until just now?”

"How?" Remus, still dumbfounded, demands to know. "Wasn't I careful? I know I wasn’t too obvious about it, or the whole school would have known.”

"Oh, you were right sneaky about it. Don't worry."

"If I was as secretive about it as I think I was, then how did you know?"

"How did your friends find out?" he shoots back.

"There's only so many times I could kill off my entire family before someone was bound to be a bit suspicious. I could claim an aunt or two died, and maybe a grandparent or two on top of that a couple months later, but after four or five people later, it just started to get unrealistic."

"Right." Regulus nods.

Remus squints again. Somewhere in the background, Harry shoves around a toy train and makes noises he assumes trains make- he's way off, trains don't go "beep beep!" but nobody has the heart to correct him on it. They just all collectively decide to pretend that yes, Harry, trains such as the Hogwarts Express  definitely go beep. 

"I never killed anyone off around you."

Poppy, unfortunately, takes her multitasked attention off of Harry long enough to hear that last bit.

"You know, I think it's a really good thing that I know neither of you are actually mass murderers. If you said that to pretty much anybody else, this would be a very concerning thing to hear out of context." She says most of this lightheartedly, but the combination of the words “mass murderer” as she accidentally shoots a glance at Regulus is not exactly a fun reminder of the ever present elephant in the room.

Regulus can't help but squirm. "Yes. That's a very good thing," he eventually says, ignoring the very omnipresent fact that, if he had continued on his Death Eater path for much longer, that's precisely what he would have become. He got out, he devised a plot against the Dark Lord at just the nick of time. Possibly just days later, and he really would have become a murderer. He's aware of it, and he knows the others are too.

(Except for little Harry, of course. The child doesn't know any better, and it’s not like anybody will inform him of this any time this decade.)

"Anyway!" After a few terse seconds, Poppy simply claps her hands together and goes back to work.

When Regulus glances around the room shortly afterwards, Remus is not looking at him.

*

They don't talk about it. Remus keeps coming back around to Grimmauld Place on time every day as he's supposed to, but they don't talk about it.

"It" could be a great many things, but with these two it means only a few specific, but all important topics. 

The Potters, Sirius, and Remus being a werewolf. 

Time ticks by, weeks go by, and aside from a few words sprinkled in here and there, a few haphazardly thrown comments, the times when one of them is comforting the other due to a nightmare or some other major discomfort, the elder Potters, Sirius, and Remus' monthly affliction are tucked away, to hopefully never be discussed again. 

That is, until one cold December morning when Ron, Fred, George, and their elder brother's pet rat Scabbers come over to Regulus' (and essentially Remus') house for a sleepover, and it all comes tumbling down like a deck of cards.

*

At first, Regulus doesn't stop to think that the rat's odd reactions to him are due to anything bigger than just a simple,  oh that sucks, I guess the rat doesn't like me. Oh well.

But then, as the morning goes by and gently wades into the afternoon, and the rat continues to squeak and squirm every time it looks up at him with suspiciously intelligent eyes, he starts to wonder if something more is going on here.

At one point, he has to pick up the animal and chuck it at Ron so the stupid thing will stop trying to bite him/kill him/eat him alive. 

Regulus is glaring and poorly trying to hide it. “I'm beginning to feel this is personal. Can you calm it down or something?”

"It's just Scabbers!" Fred, the just (slightly) shorter one out of himself and his twin, says. "He won't hurt you, really! He's just trying to play."

"With you, maybe. But that thing seriously detests me, I'm not even joking-"

Abruptly, the rat squirms some more, this time in Ron's arms.

"Okay, see? Did you see that?" Regulus motions at the animal, who's finally calming down after far, far too long. "I didn't do a single thing to it! Not one! And it hates me! Most animals don't do that around me, so I have no idea what I did to offend this one so badly.”

It's true- most animals like him quite well, actually. Even if they hadn’t, most animals he stuck around still didn’t try to eat him just because they could. 

"And it's only me it does this to, too!"

That's also true. The little rodent likes all of the little red headed children, and, oddly enough, Harry, just fine enough, but it can hardly bear to look at Regulus for more than a second or two without panicking in pure fright. 

"Why is it so scared of me?"

Behind him, the front door lets out a low sounding creak that he barely hears; the children make no indication of hearing it at all, but the rat?

His reaction to Remus entering the room makes his previous actions look like enthusiastic, ecstatic joy. It makes his previous fear look like nothing more than a pathetic joke or a cheap imitation. The rat is acting like he’s about to get hanged. 

Remus, who had been in the process of peacefully opening the door one handedly, (the other hand and arm were full of groceries), freezes in place as he is forced to witness the scene in front of him. 

Three red headed little children are racing out of the living room trying to find their brother's rat, their brother is obviously nowhere in sight, Harry is giggling his head off over these events, clapping his hands and trying not to fall off the large, widespread couch, while Regulus is standing in the middle of the room watching the rat have what looks to be an aneurysm mixed with a panic attack mixed with an allergic reaction as the animal attempts to scurry out of the room as fast as he possibly can, but it isn't working out for him as well as he'd think, especially since the children have apparently decided to band together, therefore doing their darndest to insure that they never, ever lose their beloved pet again. 

"What the ever loving– nope, never mind, there are children present, I can't say that here. Let me revise– what on Earth is going on here?"

Regulus, hapless, stutters in an attempt to explain. "I don't– the rat hates me and it absolutely loathes you, apparently, because he wasn't trying to jump into outer space before you walked in, and the children were a handful but all children are a handful, they’re kind of supposed to be, and I think the only one here who's consistently either a, having a good time or b, not getting themselves into trouble is Harry, and that's because he's just a baby, so how much trouble could be possibly get into, but then I remembered just who birthed him and who his father is, so I almost immediately had to take that back and–"

Remus isn't listening anymore; in fact, instead of paying attention, he shoves his grocery bags at Regulus, who fumbles and is lucky to even catch them before they can fall to the ground, and marches further into the house, sharp eyes aimed toward the floor.

Even though he isn’t looking at Regulus, his question is still aimed at him. “Have you seen this rat before today?"

"Yeah, at the Weasley's, not too long ago.”

"How long has he been there?"

"The rat? I don't know, a month or so. That’s what I think Fred told me a few hours ago."

Remus turns to face him. "Did you notice anything odd about this rat? Anything at all, no matter how big or small the detail is?" He's fishing for something, Regulus is sure. His gaze is so deeply, intensely desperate that Regulus briefly wonders if he needs to get concerned soon.

He makes what turns into a very wise decision as he answers with the solid truth. "I found it a bit odd at first, but for one reason or another, it has a toe missing. Just one, though, but it's perfectly healthy otherwise, which confused me further."

Remus suddenly, dangerously, stills. His voice chokes on his next words, but he manages to get them out with much perseverance. Practically everything that has ever happened in his life is a feat of perseverance, honestly. This is no different— this may be worse. Darkly, he says, "When is Minerva coming to visit us next– RON, DO NOT LET GO OF THAT RAT- because we need her here as soon as possible."

"We do?"

"We need her  right now.”

Regulus pauses. The tone in the other man's voice is undeniably urgent and even panicked, just a bit. Still, it's enough to push him to try and send out a Patronus before asking any more questions. It's hard to send out a Patronus while under pressure, but, impressively, he mentally grasps a hold of his happiest memory, and lets it loose.

It has the needed effect. Just moments later, McGonagall pops into their living room. She wastes no time in surveying the scene.

"The Animagus spell," Remus prompts, without so much as a wave hello. "The reversal one. I need you to perform it."

"No hello or how are you? No 'how is your day?' You want me to perform a spell on the Weasley's innocent rat? I was taking a nap!" The 'and this is what you utter baboons called me in for?' is heavily implied, and likely would have been actually stated, had Remus not cut right to the chase.

"Minerva. I'm not playing around, just please do it and make it fast. I have a strong suspicion that this rat is not what it’s supposed to be. This will be worth your time."

With some degree of reluctance, she performs not only the spell to reverse an Animagus to their original form, but, since she does not yet know what she’s dealing with, she casts a Stunning spell along with  Petrificus Totalus for good measure. 

In the end, when the truth is revealed, Regulus just barely has enough time to push all four children away from the no longer animal/ very,  very familiar looking, very much  human  person. Unfortunately, he does not end up having the time to get them out of the room before the insanity fully begins to unfold.

"Is that..."

Regulus' stunned response is overshadowed by Fred and George screaming in unison with, "SCABBERS IS A MAN?!" while Harry and Ron, confused but just willing to accept it for the time being, babble along. 

Remus steps forward. Honestly, he looks rather pale and sick to his stomach; not in a 'It's the full moon and I'm falling to pieces' sort of way, but more like a, 'this is so horrible and bizarre that I will never, ever forget it, no matter how much I want to... unless I use Obliviate?' sort of way.

He shakes that thought off, but another strong one immediately overpowers him; anger roars in his ears and his stomach clenches and his teeth grit together– if he were a lesser man- or not even that a lesser man, but if he would have had just a bit less self control, Peter Pettigrew would be more dead than the least animate thing on planet Earth. No– he would  become  the least animate thing to ever exist on planet Earth. Usually, Remus doesn’t get such urges, and on the rare occasions that he does, he just tries to shrug it off until he can calm himself down again, but when it comes to something of this magnitude... he really wants to do it; right now, he would love to kill Peter Pettigrew. 

Peter is alive Peter is alive Peter is alive SIRIUS IS INNOCENT SIRIUS IS INNOCENT MERLIN HELP ME PETER IS ALIVE PETER MUST HAVE DONE EVERYTHING PETER MUST HAVE BEEN IN CONTROL THIS ENTIRE TIME AND NOBODY EVEN BATTED AN EYE THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT THIS IS ALL MY FAULT HOW DID I NOT SEE IT HOW DID NOBODY SEE IT HOW I AM SO BLIND

"Peter," he breathes. His voice is too far gone to be any louder, but all he wants to do is scream. He wants to scream and cry and cause a fuss. “You–"

The rat Animagus has the audacity to flip like a switch and go, “Remus! My old friend!"

Peter tries to step closer to Remus, only to find he's been spelled so thoroughly that his fingers barely twitch. 

Remus yanks his wand out, leaning back as far away from the rat as he possibly can. “You are not my friend."

Idiotically, he persists, despite the fact that he was convinced the mere sight of Remus would mean instant death. “But I am!"

Remus still doesn't believe it. He never will again. He can’t believe he was fooled so hard, and so efficiently. 

Trusting Peter, he reflects later, is one of the biggest mistakes he's ever made.

Sounding so blindingly furious that even Minerva looks concerned, “What actually happened on October 31st?"

"You know what happened. Sirius attacked me after betraying James and Lily! He went in and attacked me, entirely brutal like. It was completely unprompted, I had no idea what to expect! I know that you have to believe me- you know it's the truth. The entire Wizarding community knows it as well, and at least ten Aurors have confirmed it.” He pauses. “I do, though, feel like it's unfortunate how you must spend your full moons alone, now."

"'Unfortunate,'" Remus echoes incredulously. His eyebrow rises as his skepticism increases as well. "That's the part that you find unfortunate? Not the part where, clearly, Sirius didn't kill you. If he never lied about that, and he never committed that crime, then what's to say he committed any crime at all? What if he didn’t even think about betraying James or Lily? What's to say that you weren't the one that did it all, what’s to say that Sirius didn’t do something last second to try and keep you protected, while you were in the midst of ruining all of our lives?”

"I– I'm innocent! I did nothing wrong!"

"Bullshit. You betrayed your best friends! You lead two of them to their deaths! Peter, what is it that you’re not understanding?” Remus is dismayed to discover that, when he blinks, he’s blinking tears away. He tries not to dwell on that too hard. “ We loved you! I can’t– you ruined everything! How does this not phase you? How can you just be there in front of me, acting like you're innocent?"

"I am!"

" You're not!"

"If I may," a cool voice cuts in as they fight for theirs to not keep rising and rising. McGonagall still looks a bit shocked, which is fair. "May I suggest Veritaserum? That'll get us all the answers we need and more."

Peter pales. 

Remus nods; he smirks, delighted by Peter's obvious alarm. "Well, if you want to play nice, Minerva, then that's certainly your own right."

She barely has to take a look at him before deciding, "I suppose that's not your plan? Or I suppose that you have something on your mind?"

Remus' grin is so sharp and feral that, if Regulus didn't know any better, he would have expected Remus to transform into a werewolf and maul Pettigrew to pieces right then and there, and know that it’s well deserved. 

Regulus, years later, can't even, with the entire truth at the back of his mind, say that it isn't the slightest bit warranted. (Or, he could, but not without becoming the sort of liar that he left behind after he left Hogwarts, sent Voldemort a sort of 'fuck you' message, and ended up faking his own death. After all of that, lying isn’t the most important thing in life anymore.)

Peter, who Regulus is sure does know better about the werewolf thing, likely a lot more so than he himself does, looks even more terrified than he already has been... which kind of says something. The others watching this wouldn’t be lying if they say that this, too, is well earned.

"No Veritaserum! You don't even need it!" squeaks Pettigrew, looking at anyone and anything that isn't Remus; he looks more and more ready to rip the blonde apart the longer the seconds tick by, and do it happily. He even so much as growls a bit in the back of his throat, but he ignores that, too. 

"Why don't we need it?" Mcgonagall asks. Even though her question is directed at Pettigrew, she looks at him like he's nothing more than some gunk that she found at the bottom of her shoe one summertime afternoon. Regulus isn't entirely sure that he isn't missing something important here, and hewouldn’t be surprised if it turns out that he is. Lately, the most important thing he's been focused on is little Harry, (which is a good thing, of course), but that also means that he's become a little less used to the utter insanity that is the Wizarding world. Things that he used to not care about, such as werewolves and little snot nosed kids and chaotic drama so wild that it makes Apparition look like a fun thing to do, are now things he has to do a double take at. It's all just so wild that he isn't sure what to do anymore...

And, when Remus' previous words aimed at Peter Pettigrew finally hit him and he realizes just why Remus is snarling, he very nearly joins in. 

He isn't very confused anymore.

He wants blood.

"Remus, are you sure we need Veritaserum? Are you sure we can't use... other methods to get our information?"

The older man raises an eyebrow. "I'm surprised that you're not trying to calm me down?" He doesn’t say no.

He motions at Peter. "He's responsible for your life and at least three others’ going downhill, is he not?"

"That's putting it kindly! He killed James and Lily!”

"I need concrete answers here.”

"Yes. He is. Clearly!”

He nods. "Great," though it is anything but, "What's the plan? The one that you apparently have? It can be anything, you know- after all, Pettigrew can't exactly go anywhere, or transform." He pauses, unsure about that last part and unwilling to be the reason that vile man skitters away and gets off scot free, all while his brother, who did none of the horrible crimes he is accused of, is forced to dwindle away in Azkaban. 

Technically, Sirius Black has only been in Azkaban for less than two months, but everyone out there in the Wizarding World knows that, depending on your force of will, or your circumstances, it usually doesn't even take one month for prisoners to lose what remains of their sanities; and that’s just with the one month, let alone two of them. With certain, more well off prisoners, their punishment will obviously be bad if they get sent there in the first place, but the more minor(ish) the crime is, the more of a chance that they'll be somewhat less swamped with the Dementors. The worse you did, the more and the worse you get. 

Sirius, despite how incredibly strong his will is, is not someone who can battle off a whole horde of Dementors that are preying on his very worst memories, maybe even to the point where he can't fight back at all, or even worse- so badly off that he can longer remember any good memories, or even his true self.

That, really, is what spirals people toward not eating any of the meager amounts of food and not drinking any of the water needed to keep their bodies alive. If one thing goes, the other things are almost always soon to follow.

Regulus is almost scared to think of the state he'll find his older brother in, if he finds him living and breathing, in any state at all, but he also knows well enough, now that Peter Pettigrew is alive and well, that he will see his brother again no matter what. This, along with some well planned confessions and a fair trial hosted by a fair judge, will likely even be enough to get Sirius out of Azkaban entirely. And, on the off chance that it isn't...

Then screw it. Regulus, despite how much he has grown to abhor the idea, will simply have to rejoin the living population of the Wizarding world. He will deal with that, and all the proclamations, and all the judgements, and all the many questions and interrogations and all the wrong assumptions and all the people that will be terrified of him and questioning the few people that know he is alive; he is never letting such a horrible thing happen to his older brother ever again, no matter what, and if him getting some publicity will make sure his brother can still remain his brother, then he’ll do it. No matter what state of being Sirius is in, he will be right there by his side to help shoulder it.

Then, when Remus is less murderous, he will laugh in his face and cry, 'See, Lupin? I bloody well told you he wasn't the traitor! I told you so!' and he will do it as smugly as he can. This is a topic that fully deserves as much emphasis as he can give, in pretty much every way possible.

And if that includes killing off Peter Pettigrew, well... he'll just have to do that, won't he? Besides, it's not as if a bit of revenge won't be worth it.

He gets so far as to step up to Pettigrew, eyes scathingly hot and wand aimed to kill, before he sees something flaming red move in the corner of his eye. It takes a lot for him to not curse and yell 'shit, I forgot about the kids!' Even if he wants to murder this man for what he's done to his brother and Remus, (and the Potters), he has recovered from his time as a Death Eater neatly enough to know that he does have a moral compass and a moral code, and that moral code does not dip down so low that he would ever kill someone in front of innocent children, unless he had not one choice in the world.

Today, he does. 

So, with great hesitation, and one part of him silently wishing his code did dip down that low, just so this could be done away with once and for all, he steps back.

To the utter amazement of himself, McGongall, and the two three-year-olds, who probably have no idea what's going on but are grown enough to understand the most basic of emotions, (and, thankfully, it's so wildly different from what they are usually confronted with that they wisely clutch each other, Ron, and Harry), Remus, too, halts.

"I could kill you."

If Pettigrew could have moved more, his nod would probably be much more pronounced, but nobody is stupid enough to risk loosening the spell that's keeping him in place. Either way, he still says, "I know." The sad part is, he used to be thick as thieves with the man prepared to end his life in cold blood. That’s truly what makes it so awful today. They used to know everything about each other, all of them: Peter, Remus, Sirius, and James. Wormtail, along with Lily in the later years. In their Animagus forms, most of their human worries were muted, not quite stripped away: Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. They would have all died for each other, or so it once seemed. Now, look at what they have become. 

"I still might kill you, and you'd deserve it."

No response this time.

"But I'm better than you. Well." He glances at Regulus very briefly. "We both are; even if we did go through with it, it would be fair, but we don’t kill in front of babies. So, for now, we won't kill you, you no good, son of-"

Regulus thinks now is a good time to cut in. "Remus." Another red blur moves. "Children."

He jolts as if he's just now remembered that, a hour or so ago, all six people, the four kids included of course, were actually in the process of having a very stress free, calm, fun day. He logically knows the kids are there- he just made a point about them, so of course he does- but he kind of forgets how young they really are when they’re so still like this. 

"If they have heard me threaten murder at least five times in the last hour, then I think they can handle a little bit of cursing. Besides, did you forget the bit where all all three of them have older brothers? They've probably heard anything I've said and more, under much more stable circumstances than these."

"There are four children."

"There are- yes, thanks so much Black, I think I learned how to count before I hit my twenties."

Even though not in rat form, Pettigrew twitches yet again. Both men glare at him.

"Hates me as a rat and hates me as a human- beginning to think its either-"

"I understand what's going on," Remus cuts him off. "I mentioned your name. He must not be afraid or hating specifically you- he hates that every time he thinks of you he thinks of Sirius, who he somehow still thinks is going to come get him, despite the fact that he's currently still in Azkaban."

McGonagall scoffs, her face set and determined, "Yeah, that won't keep going on for very long. As soon as we're done here, the very first stop is the Minister of Magic's office."

"Why wait? We can just use the Veritaserum there, that way we have as many witnesses as possible and for no way for them to deny Sirius."

She claps her hands together. "Alright, we're in business!"

Regulus would love to agree. Unfortunately, he’s come up with a flaw in this plan. “Yeah, about that."

"That's never a good thing to hear. What's the problem?"

"Counting you, me, Remus, Pettigrew, the three Weasley children, and Harry, that makes eight people in total. It's a little unwise to even Apparate with one child, let alone four of them and a not yet convicted traitor and murderer. We can't use a car, because none of us except maybe Remus owns one, and he didn't bring it with him today even if he does have one."

"I'm loathe to get more people involved before we even get to the office, but I think our best available option is taking the Knight Bus."

"And you don't think people will stare? If we get on that bus, nobody will leave us alone! Do you realize just how big of a scene all of us will make, just by existing in public altogether at the same time?”

"Four children, one of which is Harry Potter, then I'm well known just by association if by nothing else, you're supposed to be dead but you clearly are not, Minerva is herself- which I swear to you is very much a compliment- then there's Peter, who is also supposed to be very much not alive, but for the exact opposite of why Regulus is supposed to be dead- Regulus betrayed an evil, genocidal maniac, while Peter went out of his way to join one- it doesn't paint the prettiest picture, that's for sure, but I think we have no other choice at this point. Besides, oddly enough, if we spin it right, having people see all of us out in public right now might actually work out in our favor,”Remus ponders.

"How can that possibly help? And you usually hate attention; I'd thought you'd already be shutting down McGonagall."

"I don't always hate attention. It’s just that most of the time it just comes from unwanted places. But, no. I think we should do it."

"And if- sorry, when- we're inevitably questioned about what in Merlin's name is going on here?"

"I doubt most reporters will ask you any questions by going 'Oh, Merlin's name!' like that, unless they're either very desperate or highly unprofessional. Trust me, I’d know.”

"Well clearly you’re not a reporter, so should I ask why you even know that?"

"No thanks, I've filled up my embarrassment quota for this week."

"I've been with you daily since the very beginning of last month! What could you have possibly done to embarrass yourself that much, and when? And where can I watch it? You know that Harry loves to laugh himself to sleep some nights; it’s much better than the crying. It could avoid one fussy baby tonight!”

"Absolutely not, you’d better just banish the thought entirely. Now, let's get the children all bundled up so we can get a move on. We have some business to attend to."

*

Predictably, they're gawked at.

However, they weren't anticipating the attention that they get before they can even board the Knight Bus.

The very first person the bus driver sees is Regulus, and the woman nearly falls out of her highly lifted chair. 

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME-"

"Told you so," Regulus mumbles, and wraps his hood even tighter around his face, even though it's no use. People are already staring. From behind him, Remus mutters something about not officially making a bet in the first place. The former of the two would have snarked something sassy about being afraid to lose money, if there wasn't already a potential issue on his hands. Money can be an issue to deal with later. The group was all banking on getting stares after they were all safely secured on the ride, not before they can even step more than three steps onto the attached ladder.

"ARE YOU-" confused, slightly taken aback, the woman actually stops screaming for a moment. She squints. "Um..."

Regulus instantly understands her confusion, so, with some degree of reluctance, he throws back his cloak and allows his face to be shown better. “How is this so confusing for people to grasp? I mean, come on, how similar could I possibly look to my brother? I don't look too much like him, do I?"

"Dunno," the four children behind him chorus. They're probably shrugging, but he can't accurately tell for sure yet.

"Somewhat," replies a choked sounding Remus, who is not entirely telling the truth. To him, it’s not just ‘somewhat’. He kind of hates to acknowledge just how much Regulus really looks to Sirius. Despite knowing the truth about Sirius now, he would really rather just hold off on any and all talk of him until he finally has a chance to hold the long haired brunette in his loving arms once again. Anything over a month is too long. Anything more than even a night or two is too long, and there once was a glorious few years when he didn't even have to wait that long. He's so close to getting that back again, and when he does, he will never let that go again. He just wants life to go back to normal. He just really wants his boyfriend back.

He will get him back.

"I don't think she can tell who you're supposed to be," he adds.

"I just called Sirius my brother. I'm not sure how more upfront I can possibly be."

"Holy shit," the woman whispers, her brain clicking back on again. She points a shaking finger at Regulus, who is dressed in all black, twisted to the side just enough so that he can hold Harry Potter-  Harry Potter's! -  hand. "Holy shit. What in Merlin's name is possibly... aren't you supposed to be dead?"

He shrugs fairly nonchalantly. The driver looks like she's about to combust. 

Then, she looks just past him, toward the end of the group, and her legs go so faint that she actually needs to sit down. This is good news for the group, since they are now able to get inside and take some seats for themselves, and a few extra ones for them to position the still spelled Pettigrew onto.

The driver is still not driving. She's still staring at them all, and she's sputtering now more than ever. Regulus would probably be more sympathetic if he isn’t in a huge hurry, feeling much more frantic than he has been since Sirius left home for the final time, never to return to Grimmauld Place for as long as he lives. (It sounds dramatic but it’s true.) “Wha- huh- but-"

"Yes, that is Peter Pettigrew," Regulus says, foregoing allowing the girl to finish her stuttered oht sentence. Unfortunately, as it causes him to stick around longer, it turns out that him talking to her for more than a second is enough to make her choke on a gasp. He looks up at her, just to find that she's looking at him like he's going to fade away any second now, despite the fact that he is on the Knight Bus in the first place, which clearly means there is no fading away or Apparating planned. With the weight of all the stares on him, the children, and Remus, it takes him a second to remember he has to tell her where they need to be taken to. "And yes, I'm Regulus Black, and yes, I'm holding on to Harry Potter... are you going toward the Department of Ministries, by any chance?"

She nods mutely. Regulus is pretty sure that she would take them even if she has absolutely no intention of going there.

"How much do we owe you?" a sudden voice chimes in. When he looks next to him, he sees McGonagall is a tanding there. He has the quite unwelcome thought that somehow, someway, something already went wrong before either of them could even get close to the Ministry. He glances at her with anxious eyes, but she only smiles and shakes her head, receiving the silent message without question; thankfully, nothing has changed, except for the point that the four children are all buckled up and ready to go. All of them are sitting around a very antsy Remus, who is literally bouncing with nerves.

Apparently, normal people don't normally ask to go see the Minister of Magic, because the bus driver is no longer the only person gawking at him. 

Or, maybe people are just drawing assumptions.

And sure enough...

The driver blinks several times, before glancing back at the confused children, the grown man that’s been forcibly bound to several chairs, and at the man who looks like he's about to jump out of a window. Then she stares at the two people in front of her; one of which is a well-known, well trusted teacher, and the other of which is known to be born from a very famous family, and also  known to be dead . 

"That'll be..."

She doesn't get to finish speaking, for some unknown is stepping up and thrusting a handful of coins into her own hand. She cuts herself off, jingles the money around a bit, and deduces that the amount is, at the very least, enough to pay the way for four adults to the Ministry of Magic's office and back. However, that still means that somebody needs to pay for the children. Well, maybe. She's honestly banking on someone else taking notice of young Harry Potter, and paying the way for all four of the little ones just because they're with him, if any of them aren't young enough that they're allowed to ride for free.

"How old are they?"

She motions at the four redheads and the one green eyed, brown-haired baby.

Remus speaks up from where he's busy keeping Fred and George preoccupied. He'd do the same for Ron, but the youngest of the three seems to have no problem in keeping himself entertained. He seems content to just baby babble at his brothers while staring around the bus.

He taps Fred's shoulder. The boy looks at him, smiling. "Him and his brother," he motions at George, who is moving around to sit closer to Remus, despite how unnecessary that is. He’s pretty close already. "Are three-years-old. Ron," he points over at Ron, whom he's carefully watching as the boy toddles over to Harry, "Is almost two." He nods over at Harry, too. "He's only sixteen months old." 

The woman nods. "That answers that, then. They’re young enough that they can ride do free.” She turns away from Regulus, to address the man who paid for Regulus, Minerva, Remus, and Peter.

Thinking hard, the woman studies them all one more time. 

"Wait. Um. Mr. Black?"

"Yes?" asks a slightly confused Regulus. He thought there was pretty much nothing left to be said, so he's surprised when the no longer stunned woman leans in and lowers her voice, as if they have a secret to share. 

Well, maybe it’s not exactly a secret, but it’s something important nonetheless. 

"Your brother, Sirius, he didn't do it, did he?"

He blinks. "I'm sorry, what?"

"If he supposedly killed Pettigrew, but Pettigrew is laying in my bus alive and well, then what solidifies him killing or betraying the Potters?" as she says that, the youngest and only living, Potter, frowns at her. There's no way he fully understands what's being discussed, but he can probably tell that neither of the adults are in very good moods. His moods can flip very easily- when he gets attached, he stays attached, and even though he loves Regulus already in the short time that they've spent together, he still misses his Padfoot. And his parents, but there’s no chance of getting those people back. 

He's pretty unaware that he might have a chance to see the godfather he misses so much.

Regulus nods, glad that someone around here has a brain. "Yes, precisely. I hate to be impolite, but we really need to get moving. The sooner everyone before me gets dropped off, the sooner I can get where I need to be."

The woman motions around the bus of staring people.

"I have a thought- I suspect that a few of these kind people will have no issues with you skipping ahead of them in the queue... especially if they've picked up on what I have. And these are no stupid people, these are my regulars, so I would know...”

"I was just going to buy some milk," the man who had payed for them chimes in. "I can wait for a while. It's not something crucial. If I absolutely need to, I can just wait until tomorrow to buy some.”

"I was just going home," a woman standing not far behind the man says. "I can wait, too."

"So can I," agrees a young woman who barely looks any older than Remus; the child on her hip looks to be even younger than Harry does. She isn't looking at him, but at Pettigrew; the venom in her eyes is what tips Regulus off to the fact that the bus driver is correct, at least correct to a certain extent; while it's possible that not everyone on board has connected two and two to make four, everyone is currently bearing witness to the fact that the man Sirius Black killed is alive, well, and relatively unharmed, right in front of their eyes.

It's kind of hard to deny that something's off when the something that is off is right in front of your face.

"Me too," an old man whose sitting down, tapping at a cane that's resting across his lap. "Go do whatever it is that you need to do."

"Well!" chirps the bus driver pleasantly. "I think that's everyone! Shall we get a move on, then?"

*

When they get off of the bus, they are surprised to note that one of the men from earlier, the one who paid for them and postponed his grocery shopping trip so they could get to the Ministry as soon as possible, walks out with them.

"Look," he says, completely unprompted. While he's up close, it's not hard to see that he isn't much older than the young woman with the baby from the bus, or Remus. He might have a few years on Regulus, but that's it. There's no way he's any older than twenty-three or twenty-four, and even that's not for certain. He has black hair and green eyes, though the shade of his are not emerald, nor are they anywhere near as bright as Harry's. "I know I'm not a part of you all’s group, and I know that none of you know me, but it's not hard to see that something big is going on here. Something enormously important. Maybe this isn't my business, and you can of course just tell me to butt out if you need to, or if I’ll just make things more complicated for you, but I was wondering if there's any way for me to help you guys out?"

The other adults, excluding Pettigrew, who is being levitated by Minerva, look at one another in silent communication. Yes?  the three of them ask each other.  Or no?

"I don't think you quite know what's at stake here," Regulus replies, speaking slowly. He tightens his grip on Harry, who does not seem concerned. 

"You don't understand what's going on," chimes in Remus, who feels like they really don't have time for any interruptions. 

"And we don't even know your name," concludes Minerva, sounding distrustful even when she doesn’t mean to. 

"That's fair," the unknown man does not protest any of this, which is actually a point in his favor. (Albeit a small one.) “But I don't even need to fully understand what's happening to know that that man," he points at Pettigrew, "Is not only supposed to be dead, but he was supposed to be murdered by Sirius Black. I mean, that's what the entire Wizarding public was told, wasn’t it? Once that lie was spun, it was easy to believe that Sirius Black was to blame- but this, this... drama,” Drama. What an understatement, “Is going to make the Ministry look very untrustworthy. They’ll get some very bad publicity, and a bad reputation. They won't want that, right?"

"Yes." Remus squints. “They wouldn’t like that at all. Where are you going with this?”

"Yes, that's what I supposed. Now, let's suppose that the Minister of Magic is not going to want that to look like it's his fault, like we’re suspecting... so, if everyone is throwing a rightful fit over this- which they will, as soon as they know- and they'll naturally call for the Minister's head on a silver platter, so to speak."

"Oh." Remus can see where the man is going with this, now. "He'll have no choice but to cooperate with us, unless he wants to face the eventual wrath of, well... everybody that we know, essentially."

"Oh, and me," Regulus adds from the background, in an almost scarily calm tone of voice. He wouldn’t be surprised if people find him intimidating right now. Maybe that’ll help, though. 

The unknown man looks at him through the corner of his eye, but seems a bit too startled by him now to say anything to him directly, even though he did so earlier. He won't even speak to Harry, who, all fame aside, is still an innocent little boy, as are Ron, Fred, and George. 

Standing around a bus and rather impatiently waiting for it to move is a much more relaxed setting than standing around the Minister of Magic's office, waiting to start a miniature uproar. 

"Me?" asks Harry, who is still at Regulus' side. He doesn't know what's going on, of course. He just assumes that, if Regulus is doing something, he absolutely has to help him do it, right? In his eyes, he might be little, but he is mighty.

Minerva nods. Her face, as she looks upon the nearby building, is set in determination and so cold and hard that it could be carved in stone. "Oh, we're getting him back. Of that, I have no doubt."

Remus doesn't say anything. He doesn’t bother to deny her or question it. Instead, he nods his approval for the new guy to follow along behind him.

When he gets moving, the children, Regulus, Minerva, and the new guy do as well.

"So, what is your name?" Regulus asks, hanging around at the tail end of the group. "I'm sure you already know mine." It feels like a really egotistical thing to say,  I know that you already know who I am,  but it's true nonetheless, even if he doesn’t want to say it. It would be rather hard to find anybody in the Wizarding World that's over the age of thirteen that have no idea who he is. 

(Especially in the context of where they are and what it is that they're doing.)

"Uh-huh," the guy nods. He nods so hard and so nervously that his head bobbles up and down with the motion. "Um. I'm Jared Conway. It's... nice to meet you." He still isn't looking at him. He’s still rather pale and freaked out, but not just as Regulus; he’s just anxious in general, and the current circumstances are not helping with that. 

Regulus nods. Then, awkwardly, he asks, "Should I introduce myself as well?" He is very much not used to idle small talk. He’s not sure how to do it like he used to. 

"I wouldn't bother if I were you, no.”

"Duly noted."

A moment of silence passes.

"Oh, and that woman walking up ahead of us is Minerva McGonagall. She's a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and she's very impressive. Talented as anything, and a good teacher at that. She actually listens to what kids have to say; she helps them reach their full potentials, and even when that fails, she still refuses to just let them get away with not trying. She’s a real wonder.”

Conway gathers a bit more courage. "Did she, um, did she teach you as well?"

He smiles. "She did. For all seven years of school."

"That's good. Was she your Head of House?" Conway knows that Hogwarts is of course, and what Houses and prefects and head boy and girl are and who Regulus is, but he doesn't know much more than that. He doesn’t know much about Hogwarts at all; such as, who is in charge of which Hogwarts House. 

"No, she was his." Regulus motions at the very front of the group, where Remus is speed walking so fast that he's almost running. The other adults are having a hard enough time catching up with him, and they aren't stubby legged, clumsy little toddlers. "Gryffindor," he explains. "For the both of them."

"You weren't a Gryffindor with them, were you?" That, he knows. Or at least, he's pretty sure that he knows. He can recall that the younger Black's Sorting turned out pretty much as expected, all things considered. He didn't go to school with either of the brothers. but it was kind of hard  not  to pay attention to their separate Sortings either way. It seemed as if the whole Wizarding community tuned in to those, and they probably truly did. "Was it Slytherin?"  Yes, that's right. Like the rest of his family was. 

Then Conway remembers the whole reason that he’s there.  Well. Maybe not all of them.

"Born and raised. Literally. Did you ever go to Hogwarts?"

"Ah, no, I can't say that I did. I was homeschooled by my mother; she didn't want to send me away that far.”

"Why not?" Regulus can hardly fathom such a thing- however low of a bar this is, those were still the greatest years of his life. He imagines it must be horrible for someone to have to miss out on that kind of life changing experience. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's fine. I went on, I graduated school on my own, and I have a pretty decent job. Life is pretty alright. It would have been nice to go, but I don’t live in regret knowing that I didn’t.”

They walk in silence for a while; while at first they made pleasant small talk, it seems that now everyone is content to pretend that they aren't racing through the Ministry of Magic's building, trying to con the Minister himself into giving someone a trial for something that he was very falsely accused of.

The peace does not last much longer. 

Suddenly, after about ten minutes or so of walking, Remus halts. They're all standing in front of a small doorway, just staring at it. On the door, there is a sign baring the Minister's name.

Without further ado, he turns to the others and says, 

"We're here."

*

Regulus Black knows what it's like to feel nervous, to feel a pit in the bottom of your stomach as the butterflies in it fight for control. Moreso, he knows what it's like to feel carnal, uncontrollable fear. This, he imagines, being forced to wait outside while a bunch of old men in stuffy business suits debate the life of his older brother, is probably a mix between the two. Or maybe it’s just both of those things combined. 

Remus and Minerva had gone into the office, leaving Regulus in control of the children and Conway, and the latter of which does not need babysitting at all, but that's besides the point. Remus and Minerva had walked in together, and now, within only twenty minutes, they are coming right back out again.

He's sure that this means trouble and bad news, and he’s more than positive that this means they don't have a single chance of clearing his brother's name. Those thoughts overwhelm him for a few seconds, until he looks up at Remus, who surprisingly does not look defeated in the slightest. To Regulus' surprise, he could swear that he's actually seeing a flicker of hope in his friend's eyes. 

"They're holding a trial for Sirius now," Minerva informs them, as if this was expected. They all know that no, clearly, it was not, so they shoot her stunned looks. (And she knows that too.) "Obviously, they didn't plan this before we got here. But they stopped to talk to both Remus and I after the original set of questions, and I was told to let you know that you're to be next."

"They're– really? What? Are you certain? You aren’t you just guessing?”  This is a good thing this is a good thing this is a good thing. For once, world, do not let me down. Do not let Harry down. Let that child have his godfather back. Don't let the child grow up without him. 

Remus' lips quirk up just the tiniest bit, in an approximation of a smile. Just as quickly, he tugs it back down again. It's almost as if he's trying not to have hope, but is failing immensely. It’s actually a bit of a heartwarming sight. "We told them everything we know."

Regulus remembers Padfoot; he remembers that Remus had seen fit not to tell anybody about just a few mere weeks ago. "Oh, did you?"

His gaze shifts downward a bit. "Yes," he says to the floor. His voice is mumbled.

The other three adults roll their eyes at each other over Remus' head.  What a really convincing, entirely truthful display. Such sincerity. 

"Anyway. Something that we said must have made the Ministry workers sit up and listen, because it seems that they're finally doing what they should have done months ago. They’re finally doing their jobs! Though I have to wonder if having a trial about Sirius without Sirius himself  actually present  is the smartest idea in the world. Where the f- um, where is the logic at with that one?”

Minerva pats his shoulder, unfazed and unsurprised by how close he is to cursing. She tsks. "I know you have a penchant for seeing the best in people, Remus, but really... nobody is fooled by your ‘I have friendly feelings for the Ministry’ act.”

"I'm surprised he hasn't started cursing yet," agrees Regulus, smirking at him. 

"I think he's holding it in." Minerva nods. 

Remus himself doesn't deny a single word of this, especially since it wouldn’t do him any good. "Anyway. What time is it? Do you need to get the children to bed?"

You, not we.  It’s not even a question. He's just not going to leave this waiting room until there are trial results, no matter what those may be.

Within the past few hours, unnoticed by any of them until just now, the sun had set. None of them know what time it is, but the sun has not set all too long ago; so, it's likely not that late for the adults, but for the toddlers it is a whole a different story.

However, if Remus assumes that Regulus is going to leave at this point, while the results of his brother's life in the balance, then he's in for a rude awakening.

"You're insane," the younger Black snorts derisively. His arms are crossed; Harry is no longer holding on to him, but instead is peacefully dozing off, his small body draped across one of the waiting room-esque chairs. Fred and George are still behaving for once, oddly enough. Ron is sitting beside Harry, munching on some off brand candy bar that none of them can remember buying him in the first place, and therefore are not a hundred percent sure where he got it from. After all, it's not like they've had the time to stop and buy anything for him. So Regulus can prove his point, he pulls an unfortunately shriek-y chair toward him, sits down in it, and does not move a muscle. "I'm not going anywhere."

Remus doesn't even attempt to argue. Not today. “Okay. What do you want to do with the children for the night? They can't just stay here overnight with us, right?"

"Right. Plus, you know, they're children. I'm pretty sure we'll lose points in Molly Weasley's favor if her boys come home, yelling about how they got to spend the night outside of the Minister of Magic's office. I can't really afford to lose her support right now. Any suggestions?"

Luckily, he doesn't have to wait for very long.

"I'll take the children," Minerva says, standing up and reaching a hand out for the youngest, who reaches back for her. "We'll head back to Grimmauld Place for the night, and you'll let me know what is going on the very  second  you know anything new. I'll get them all tucked in to bed. I'm sure Molly won't mind too much if she learns her children were here for half an hour, at the most."

Regulus is so, so relieved. "Thank you so much. That's such a big help. I adjusted the wards a while back so that they’ll will let you in with no problem, so you can just walk right in.”

"I know. I figured you have it set so I can come and go as I please, or something of the sort."

"Yes, actually. That’s right.”

She looks over at Fred and George, who have been abnormally quiet, just to notice that they're following Harry's lead. "I should probably head on out, then." Trying not to disturb the baby, she manages to get Harry in her arms without waking him up too much. He doesn't even seem to notice, and she smiles. The last thing she needs right now is a fuss, and today, the children all seem very willing to oblige her.

Fred sees Minerva pick his friend up, so he rises to his feet, too. "Are we leaving?"

"Yes. Do wake your brother for me, alright?”

He does so, though maybe not in the sweetest way possible. “Hey, dummy!"

"No," George sleepily mumbles, instinctively knowing Fred is speaking to him. "Go 'way."

He repeats himself. "Hey dummy!"

"Nooooo...."

"George," Ron calls out, sounding a bit annoyed as he rubs at his tired eyes. “Come on, it’s time to go."

"Go? Going home?"

"No. G- ummm. No. Gwim?"

"Gwim?" echoes Regulus, smiling despite his enormous amount of stress. "Do you mean  grim?  As in, Grimmauld Place? Is that what you’re talking about?”

Ron nods. “Gwim! Yeah!"

"...Okay. Sure. Gwim, buddy. That’s totally the correct term. But yes, you're going back to my house."

He looks up with wide eyes. "Are you too?"

"Am I what? Coming back there with you?"

He nods again. 

"No, Ron, I’m not. I need to stay here and wait for the results."

Ron shrugs. “Okay then. Bye-bye!"

The child then runs off without any more words said as he goes trailing along behind the other kids. 

The door snaps shut behind them, and Regulus sighs; now all there is to do is wait.

*

Regulus eventually falls asleep, and he wakes up sore. 

Once he attempts to move his leg, and realizes this, he lets out a low, almost guttural groan. He does not have time for this. 

(Quite literally. When he looks out the window, he can see that the sky is already beginning to lighten.)

He also doesn't have time to find the woman who's supposed to be at his house, sitting right next to him instead. But there she is, despite that. 

"Minerva?" Panicked, he forces himself to get his feet back on the floor. He sits up, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes and yawning. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the children?"

"No, I've returned them back home to their parents."

"What? You literally– you actually  can't  return all of them to their parents. Please tell me you still have Harry with you. And what time even is it? I think I must have dozed off a few hours ago. I think it might be a new day now.”

"It's 5:05 o' clock in the morning."

"And you've already sent most of the boys home, when it’s still so early?”

"Except for Harry, of course. I brought him along with me." She nods across the room, to where Harry is playing with some sort of children's toy. He waves hello, and continues with what he's doing. He doesn’t look back at her again. "I came back here because it was making me antsy just sitting around at Grimmauld Place, waiting for some answers."

How do you think I feel?  he thinks but doesn't say. He knows how compassion and politeness works. After all, he grew up on being polite when really he wanted to stab a person. It seems some dredges of that still occasionally come up now, even as an adult. “I hope I didn't miss anything," is what he does say. He looks around. "Did I?"

"No. I don't think that anything has happened-"

She doesn't get to talk any further. The door is finally- after so many anxious hours-terrifyingly, opening. 

A man is standing there. Silently, he beckons Minerva, Regulus, and Remus inside. Jared Conway is no longer waiting there. 

The three remaining adults exchange nervous glances with one another. All of them are anxious, hopefully, and overall, mostly scared. 

They hesitate no longer.

One after the other, they step through the open door.

*

The man leads them to the Minister of Magic himself. The Minister formally greets them all, (except for little Harry), with a firm handshake and a quick, impersonal hello. 

"Hello. You must be Mr. Black's brother?" he directs to Regulus, as if this isn’t already obvious, and as if he didn’t expect to see him arrive. 

"Yes," he confirms, although he doesn't actually need to. It's a good show of politeness, though, and as already mentioned, he is good at that. "I am, sir. Nice to meet you.”

"Right. Nice to meet you too, kid. Well, I assume that you have everything handled then? You’re all good to go?” 

"Excuse me?"  What kind of non sequitur is that? What in Merlin’s name is he talking to me about?

"With your brother," he elaborates, though he does not elaborate very well. "I assume you can find someplace for him to stay without any issues or further Ministry involvement? He'll be compensated for his time in Azkaban, of course, that is of no concern, but..." the Minister trails off, like that (and his next statement) physically pains him a little bit to say. "He isn't in the best mental state, should you say. Do with that what you will."

"Wait." Remus speaks up for the first time today, looking very fairly startled. Things are starting to make sense, and he’s trying not to look entirely ecstatic as his hope increases even further. “Wait. Are you saying-"

"- Is Sirius free?" Regulus accidentally finishes. Remus’ sentence in his excitement. “Is that what you’re saying? Can he leave?"

The Minister does not say anything for several long moments before sighing and thrusting a piece of parchment and a quill at the person closest to him, which happens to be Regulus. "Sign here, at the dotted line.”

He takes the pen, but he doesn't write anything just yet. He’s still confused. What is he getting himself into, exactly? “Um, about that, sir. What exactly are you asking me to to sign?”

"It’s just a waiver in which you agree not to press charges against my office or my workers for this whole,” he waves a dismissive hand, “Azkaban fiasco.”

"Right..." That answers one thing. Now he  knows  that he doesn’t want to deal with it.

"I wouldn't sign that," Minerva mumbles out of the corner of her mouth, as if silently cued in to his thoughts.

"We don't have time for this. I have to sign the form just to be done with it all. I want Sirius back more than I want to argue,” he mutters back to her as he signs it and passes it back. Louder, he says, "Is this to your satisfaction, Mr. Minister?"

After a few slow, agonizing seconds of studying the paper, the man nods. Regulus and Remus both release a held in breath that they hadn’t realized they were holding in the first place. “Yes. I assume you want to see your brother, Mr. Black?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. He just assumes it's the resounding yes that it is. He doesn’t even look back behind him as he calls, "Alright, then. Follow me. This way now, all of you."

*

His hair is as long as it usually is supposed to be, but it is nowhere as voluptuous, soft, or as well kept as everyone (and himself) is used to it being. His hair is in tangles and knots that are so badly crisscrossed that there is absolutely no way it is not painful. Even if that wasn't an issue, which is so clearly is, there appear to be missing patches of hair as well; almost as if he had once, more than likely, recently, ripped out entire sections of it. Earlier in the year, and especially throughout his Hogwarts years, he was long and lean, but in a way that fit his height and worked well: after all, he was sincerely healthy back then, excluding perhaps a few very notable occasions– a stomach bug caught by one of his miserable dormmates as they all resigned themselves to a night or two with Madam Pomfrey, a few rare times where he had actually gotten hurt slightly after a few rough full moons, a few all nighters spread too closely together, the night that he ran away from home– but now, he's so skinny it looks like just a single hug just might break him if the hug itself isn’t nearly as light as a feather. The last time any of them saw him, he barely had any tattoos, but for some reason unknown to perhaps even himself, he now has plenty of them, despite never once talking about wanting one when he was younger. Then, on top of all of that, his grey eyes can't seem to stay still; they're jumping from Regulus, who is still at the front of the line, to the Minister, to the wall behind them both, and to the windows. He doesn't seem to notice Remus, who is at the back of the group with Harry now, but he does notice Minerva, who shoots him a reassuring smile as if she has any idea what he's going through right now.  You’ve got this,  the look says, as if he’s still in Hogwarts with her and as if nothing too serious has occurred. 

Long story short: Sirius Black is an absolute train wreck right now, and none of them have even scratched the surface of how far that goes yet. 

After a little while, his eyes finally, thankfully seem to settle; however, that does not mean everything is well yet, not by a long shot. Worryingly slowly, he takes a step closer to his younger brother. Just as cautiously, Regulus mimics the movement. 

Wisely, everyone else moves out of their way rather quickly. They aren’t risking interrupting this moment no matter what. (Unless it’s something life threatening, of course, but that’s about it.)

They stay like this for several minutes, in a back and forth limbo of ‘who’s gonna be the first to take another step?’but nobody, aside from the unrepentant, impatient Minister that keeps checking his watch, seem very inclined to hurry them along. 

After a while, Sirius takes another step forward; this one is a bit more firm, more obvious, a bit less like he wants to melt through the floor and never resurface again. Regulus, though he doesn't show it, is hopeful all over again. (He’s not sure that he’s really stopped being hopeful for a while now.)

"It's me," he says, perhaps a bit uselessly. Sirius can see this for himself, and perhaps already has. “It's me. It's Regulus. Remus is here too. We’re all here. We’re all okay.”

He lifts his head up a bit more, a bit quizzically, but ultimately does not react any further than that. 

Regulus sighs and tries something else. “Uh- Minerva is here too. So is Harry!"

Finally, thankfully, that at least gets a marginally bigger reaction than the one previous. Sirius lifts his head up further as his eyes search for the little boy.

Harry does not seem to possess any tact, but at least today he does have some sense of good timing. "PADFOOT!" he wails, in a gleeful sound that's so sincerely joyful that even the Minister looks a bit less grumpy. Not much, but a bit. Harry leaps to his feet and out of Remus' arms with a gracefulness that none of them knew him to possess before. Excitement is practically fueling him. “WHERE’VE YOU BEEN?! PADFOOOOOT!”

He almost instantly loses any and all grace he had just gained a few seconds prior when he slams into his godfather's legs with all the force of a freight train. 

Sirius, staring down at the child at a loss for what to do, lifts his eyes around the room again as he searches for help.

Regulus instantly decides that he will take over the explanation that must, unfortunately, occur. Nobody wants to explain current events- which have thankfully not been  too  many- to his brother that has just gotten out of prison on false charges. He’s not even sure Sirius will care about current events at the moment. 

Also, nobody wants to explain to a not quite two-year-old why he hasn’t been able to see his current most beloved person for over a month.

But either way, first thing's first- getting Harry to move away from Sirius, at least enough so the man can walk.

"When we get out of here and we can go talk someplace more comfortable, I'll explain, okay? But we need to get out of here first, and Sirius has to go see Poppy. You like Poppy, remember?"

Harry shakes his head, despite the fact that he does actually like Poppy Pomfrey. He just likes his godfather a lot more. Plus, he's really missed him, and so, he tightens his grip. Poppy can wait, or Poppy cannot. He doesn’t particularly care, just as long as he doesn’t have to let go of his godfather immediately.

"Harry, come on, we're going to Hogwarts," now, Remus has taken over. He walks back over to Harry, kneels down, and tries to convince the boy to climb onto his lap. He figures it might be slightly easier than having to pry the kid away from the iron clad grip he looks to be using on Sirius, though that'll happen if it absolutely must. He tries a different approach. “You don't have to be afraid- Sirius is coming with us. We can all go out to eat afterwards, too,” he imagines that that might convince the child to back off a little, “But you need to let go of him for that to happen." 

Harry stares up at Remus, looking rather uncertain and still very reluctant to depart. Sirius does, too. 

But, eventually, Harry obeys and, with much more hesitation, unclenches his hands. "Ice cream?" the child grumpily requests. In his point of view, if he absolutely  must  let go, he should get to have a treat instead. 

The only better idea Regulus could come up with was one involving some hard Firewhiskey, because although he was happy that he finally had his brother back in front of him, mostly safe and sound, he could not help but be mad over all that's been taken from him in such a short amount of time. He had been in Azkaban for over a month, which may not sound too bad, and yet the others can already tell that Sirius has been through quite the traumatizing ordeal. 

They all knew that Azkaban is bad, but they don't know the extent of it, and some of them, (read: Harry), may never know. 

Regulus can't help but feel like they're going to find out it was, although they obviously will not have the same firsthand experience that Sirius did, and they’re aware that it's probably even worse than they’re expecting. 

They’re expecting some pretty rough stuff. 

"Yep, buddy. Ice cream it is."

*

"Ice cream!" cheers a no longer disgruntled Harry, as the group rapidly approach the Knight Bus for the second time in two days. However, and this is a major plus, this time they approach it with the free, innocent Sirius. This time, the world will know about that, instead of just a very select group. (AKA: Regulus himself, and maybe Harry.)

"Not yet," replies Regulus, who has retaken his position of leading the group once again. Once again, Remus is corralling the back, just like before. It feels as if they've planned this, but really, he knows that they did not; he would have remembered something like that. "I told you, Harry. Madam Pomfrey first, then I need to talk to Dumbledore, then I need to..." as he's listing off his list of Things To Do Today, he remembers something that he isn't really sure how to ask about; it has to do with Sirius. Since he's standing not far behind him, he would just turn around and ask, but it also has to do with Remus, and considering they both thought the other was a traitor at one point... yeah, that could potentially be a mess. He'd like to stay out of that... but at the same time, he isn't exactly sure if the next full moon is today or if it's next week, and since Remus usually watches Harry at night, this is kind of an important detail to know. So, feigning cool interest, he starts talking.

"Hey, does anybody have the date? We’ve been up to quite a bit within the last few days, so I’ve kind of lost track.”

He deliberately does not look at Remus, which isn't hard to do when the older man is walking behind him and there are at least three people in between them. He won’t deny being a bit thankful for that. He continues on. 

"It just occurred to me that," he motions somewhere behind him, where he assumes Minerva to be, since he cannot actually see her from his position, "Must have to be at work by now if it's a weekday, right? Have we been making your job harder?”

"Actually, no, you haven’t. There hasn’t been any problems. I Floo'd over to Hogwarts late last night to tell Dumbledore what had happened in regards to Sirius, here. He managed to bring in a a substitute for me for both yesterday and today, so I should be all set. I just have to be back to the school in enough time to grade a few essays before Monday arrives," Minerva informs him as the Knight Bus' doors open.

"Oh, it's you lot again!" exclaims the bus driver from yesterday. She seems excited to see them. “How did things go? With your potential case?”

She doesn't wait for an answer. "You all look so tired... I suppose it went not so well then, I'd imagine? I'm so sorry about that– everyone that was here yesterday would have helped if they could, I swear. We all really wanted to help you succeed.”

"Miss. Ma'am. Miss Whatever Your Last Name Is. You don't have to worry," Regulus tells her, genuinely smiling a little bit now. He is tired, that's for sure... but, now that everyone he loves is safe and sound for the first time in what has to be many years, he is honestly not all that fussed over the dismal quality of sleep he had last night. 

She blinks for a beat or two, clearly not expecting they response for whatever reason. “OH! Like, in a 'everything turned out fine' kind of way, or in a ‘Please don’t worry about that, I can’t have your concern weighing on my conscience,’ kind of way...?”

"Are you positive there's no way we can't just Apparate?" Remus mumbles to nobody in particular. Nobody cares to answer him, either. 

"I remember a few weeks ago you didn't want to Apparate with a baby, and nobody wanted to fight with you back when you looked half dead. We only did Apparation with Harry then due to emergency, and for once we don't have one of those, so we're doing this," Regulus replies, not nearly as quiet as he was just recently before. Sirius shoots him a 'what on Earth did I possibly miss' look, but they both ignore it.

The woman blinks slowly again. She's not staring at either Remus or Regulus; now; her eyes are on Sirius. Not just hers, though, which would have been preferred, since she, although quite loud, didn’t seem to be getting in their way too badly... 

Toward the back of the bus, someone suddenly stands up and makes their way over to Regulus, who tenses and prepares for a fight or at the very least for an argument, but...

It is not to be. 

"I don't know if you talk to your brother or not– I mean, I can take a bet that you probably do, especially today– but if you get the chance, can you tell him that I'm sorry?"

Regulus blinks. Did he somehow miss his brother meeting this guy? Or did he meet him in between the years of 1979-1981, maybe? “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you friends with my brother?”

"NO, no, no, that’s not it, I don't actually know him. It's just... I believed them. The Ministry, I mean. And now they're releasing a notice and proof that their first statement isn't actually true, as it turns out, so... maybe he'd like to know that someone in the Wizarding World is on his side? Even if it's just a stranger."

Regulus nods, then steps aside. This isn’t something he needs to help with. "Well, it seems that you've just told him yourself."

The redheaded young adult freezes for a second, before getting her wits about her and walking past Remus, Minerva, Regulus, and Harry, to stop in front of her target. She looks him straight in the eye and says, “I'm sorry. I know I'm only one person that you've never met before in your life, but I figured maybe it's the thought that counts?"

Sirius, looking fairly surprised, does nothing but stare at her and nod. 

Guessing this is a good sign, girl sticks out her hand.

For a second or two, all he does is stare at her some more. A few more seconds pass of them not breaking eye contact. She does not move away, or return to her previous seat. 

So, he shrugs and shakes her hand.

"I'm really sorry," she repeats, to drive the point home. “I know it's not much of a consolation, but at least now people will know the truth, right?" He says nothing. She doesn’t try to make him. "It was really nice to meet you!" With an awkward wave, she walks back to her seat.

Remus is now staring at Sirius, as the girl's words are echoing in his mind. Sirius, if he notices the burning eyes on him, makes absolutely no indication of it; he's staring down at the ground, not looking at anyone or anything else until they all get on board the bus, pay, and take their seats.

The ride seems to be a lot less dramatic, this time around. It even seems a bit more relaxing, when the driver isn’t cutting sharp corners that she really didn’t need to turn that quickly around. 

That niceness lasts maybe ten minutes before someone else makes a comment... it's just not a comment any of them expect. This comment comes in the form of a young kid.

This time, the stranger is a young, black haired boy, just barely old enough to attend Hogwarts, but evidently, attend he does- or at least, he is going to. His hair is a mess, and the scarlet and gold tie draped across his neck is not any more squared away, but his robes are on as they should be, and his hair is done very nicely. 

"I'm visiting my sister today," he says, completely out of the blue. He's staring at Remus, and he does not seem very inclined to look away yet.

Remus doesn’t know what to say. It’s not often little kids try to make conversation with him. “Good for you."

"It isn't the first time I've seen Hogwarts, though. I got to visit it right before term started. I'm going there next year! I would have gone this year, since I'm at the right level for it and all, but unfortunately my birthday fell too early or too late in the year– I don’t know which– so now I have to wait until next September, which is practically forever! I can’t wait to go.”

Remus smiles at the boy's enthusiasm. It’s always a nice thing to witness. “It seems like you have this all planned out, don’t you?”

His head bobbles up and down, then up again. “Yes, of course I do! And I already know what house I'm going to be in, see?" his right hand grabs the end of his incorrectly fastened tie. It still flashes scarlet and gold. "Gryffindor! Where dwell the brave at heart!"

For the first time, Sirius really looks at Remus. Remus stares back at him just as intensely, before their eye contact falters again.

No words need to be spoken between them to know what one another is feeling in regards to  that . 

Remus returns his attention to the child. "I'm sure you'll do great there. I know we did."

This is both true, and serves to further embolden the boy.

He's so excited he actually bounces in his chair. When he speaks again, though, he is looking at Sirius instead of Remus. 

"Do you agree with your friend, Mr. Black?"

Sirius seems, again, surprised. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has even less of an idea of what to do than Remus does, so he just quickly abandons that in favor of nodding. 

It's good enough for the kid, who takes it as the confirmation that it is. “Thank you!" he beams, first to Sirius, who he's staring at like the man hung the moon and stars themselves, then to Remus only a tad bit less adoringly. "You guys were Aurors, weren't you?"

They glance at each other. 

He takes this as an answer that they didn’t give. “ Wicked!  And you!" He whips around to face Sirius again. "You went to live with the Potters a long time ago, right?"

His nod is slower this time.

"That's  amazing!  You must have had so much fun all the time!”

No, not really, I’d imagine otherwise,  thinks Regulus, who is impassively watching this go down, blank faced.  I know at least three people who can tell you that he likely didn’t. 

Then, it gets worse. The child suddenly turns solemn, like a switch is flipped, or someone took his batteries out.

Despite the light (supposedly) subject matter, he doesn’t seem too enthused about it. “Soon enough, I'll know just what that feels like."

Then, he's all smiles again, as if he never said anything off in the first place. 

It does not bode very well at all. 

Like the girl from earlier, the child says a meek "It's very nice to meet you," before once again minding his own business. 

Remus is still staring. However, this time, for the first time in over a month, he shifts around in his seat and actually talks to Sirius. His voice is fraught with tension, and he's not sure how reassuring he sounds, but he makes an attempt anyway. "The boy will be fine."

Sirius doesn't say anything; he simply shakes his head. He still isn't looking anywhere near Remus.

So, Regulus isn't surprised to see Remus look momentarily relieved over the idea of a distraction when he repeats his earlier question. "Does anybody have the date?"

Remus does no longer look relieved as he responds, very tightly, "Yeah. It's the 11th."

Which is great, and all, but it does not tell him if Remus can watch Harry tonight or not.

(It does not occur to him to just ask Minerva, who he knows needs to stay inside and grade essays, or Sirius, who he does not want to put any stress on. Plus, he just wants a normal night, and sticking to the normal plan qualifies as such.)

Okay, it turns out that being subtle is not working. Time for Plan B.

"Okay, so, you're all set for tonight with Harry, aren't you?"

Harry looks up with interest at the sound of his name. "That's me," he confirms, even though this is and never was even once in question.

"Yes, you are definitely yourself. Remus?"

"Um..." Remus visibly hesitates.

Regulus, by this point, highly assumes that the answer is no, but he needs to have that confirmed so he can act accordingly. He doesn’t want to assume one thing and find out it’s completely wrong, and then be left with no babysitter. “I can handle things at home if you're...otherwise preoccupied, but you have to let me know, or I’ll just have to assume you can watch him.”

Sirius glances in between them, appearing confused, though Regulus can't tell why. 

Whatever the problem is seems to be handled pretty quickly, though, when Sirius simply says- and this is the first thing that he's said verbally to any of them in more than a month, or in Regulus' case, years- "I can watch Harry. You three all live together?"

Regulus is concerned by the casual 'I can watch him', and for good reason. "We are currently on the way to Hogwarts to shove you at a nurse you haven’t been to in years, because we don't know what kind of damage has been done to you while we've all been separated. You need a break, not a babysitting job."

"He's my godson. I should have been taking care of him this entire time."

"Yeah, and you couldn't have- through no fault of your own!" he rushes to add.

It doesn't seem to have much of an effect, or at least, not a positive one. He scoffs. "Yeah, sure it wasn't."

"What? How could you possibly think that getting imprisoned for something you  didn't do  is your fault?"

"They're dead." he mumbles. This is true, but is next declaration is very much not. “And it's all my fault."

Regulus struggles to argue that, but not because it's true: but because it so obviously isn't. Sirius, so dedicated and loving and headstrong, would have never killed or betrayed his best friends, especially not James Potter- as loathe as he sometimes is to admit it, James and Sirius thought and treated each other as if they were really brothers. They had no actual blood relation, of course, but that didn't stop them any.

(Well, probably not 'of course.' After all, both boys were purebloods, so for all they know, they could have been related, albeit very distantly... Regulus doesn't know, and doesn't really care to figure it out.)

However, he is spared from trying- and failing- to convince his brother of the truth.

When he opens his mouth again to attempt as much for the second time, Remus just barely has enough time to beat him to the punch.

"You did not kill them."

_ Obviously, he didn't. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen.  _

Remus doesn't hear any of that, though. It was all in Regulus' head.

Remus stares Sirius in the eye again and says, fiercely, “This is not your fault. You were not the traitor, you did not kill them, this is not on you."

Sirius frowns. He’s not done arguing yet. "But, wait-“

"No buts. You didn't do any of it, and I shouldn't have doubted you."

"I shouldn't have doubted you, either. I should have trusted you."

"I should have trusted  you, Sirius. I'm not the one that's been wronged here!" 

"Look," Sirius snaps, exhausted but unwilling to show it very much, "What's done is done, okay? Now, I'd just like to go somewhere and sleep... I just have to get a place, first."

That last part doesn't go over too well.

"You're staying with me," Minerva, Remus, and Regulus all protest in unison, before realizing they had all had the same idea.

"If I stay with one of you two," he directs to Remus and Regulus, "Then wouldn't I technically be staying with both of you?"

"Yes and no. Remus is over every day. Him and I have developed a system; in the morning to early afternoon, he is out doing, presumably, job searching. He comes back to mine by early afternoon, we spend some time both together and with Harry, and he watches over him at night while I wind down; he technically doesn't actually live with me, though. He does have his own apartment."

"That he despises," Remus snarks, about Regulus. "A few days ago, before all of this stuff with you and the Ministry went down, the three of us went grocery shopping for me, so he got to see my apartment as we were putting things away. He looked at me and said, 'This is the sorriest excuse of decent living space that I have ever seen' then he proceeded to comment on every visible flaw he could notice, all the way down to the wallpaper. Rather snobbish of him, honestly."

"I'd rather be a snob then live  there," Regulus says, softly but with feeling. He really thinks the space was horrible. “And really, what can I say? I have a knack for interior decorating."

"You live in a house full of abandoned, old goblin heads!"

"Yes, but they were planted there when I was a little boy, but it's not like my child self made that particular decision."

"Well, your adult self can fix it. It's ugly, and it's tacky, and who in Merlin's name wants that floating above their head?"

It doesn't take long for Sirius to piece together that Regulus must be living at Grimmauld Place again. "Our parents," he says drily. Regulus nods. 

"One day they just woke up and decided that Goblin heads were the peak of in-house decorating," Sirius intones, solemnly.

Regulus wastes no time in egging him on. "One day, it was boring colored walls, and the next, BAM! Heads above all of our heads."

"We woke up, saw quite a sight-"

"- It was quite startling, I must say-"

"So Reg and I over here decided that, huh, some questioning might be in order."

"So, I drew myself to my full height- Remus, I'm not that short, stop laughing at me-"

"Naturally, I took charge in this confusing endeavor," Sirius says, with a smidgen of his past bravado. The others are not upset to hear it, that's for sure and certain. "So we made our way into whatever room our parents were occupying at the time, and since they preferred Regulus, we both decided that he should be the one to ask the fated question."

"'Hey, Mom, Hey, Dad? WHY ARE THERE GOBLINS ON THE WALLS?'"

"That's not how he asked it," Sirius rolls his eyes.

"Okay, but that was the gist of it, don't you deny it."

"Oh, I'm not. That's just now how you posed the question." He looks over at Remus. "He walked up to them and went," here, he pitches his voice higher, into a passable imitation of what his little brother sounded like when he was still actually little. "'Good afternoon Mother, Father,' and he gave them a polite little nod as if he secretly wasn't a little shit. I, of course, was not fooled. But I was also in on this, so. Anyway, he went, 'Hello, good afternoon Mother, Father. I was wondering if you have a minute to talk?'"

"There is no way that's exactly what he said," Remus, doubtful, replies.

"It's not," Regulus confirms. "Not word for word, anyway, but he is pretty accurate so far."

Once the two quiet down, Sirius gets louder. "And because they are horrible people, they just tried to pawn Regulus off on someone else to talk to, like Kreacher. Kreacher had quite a soft spot for him," he explains.

"Still does. He still lives with me, actually."

"Bloody hell, that old thing is still alive? But eventually, Reg must have been so polite that they agreed to speak with him or something, because the three of them sat down, and  that's  when he said, blunt as anything, 'There are heads on the walls. I cannot recall there being any heads on the walls last night when I got back from my walk.' We had actually gone on that walk together, but because Orion and Walburga were terrible people-"

"Were? I just saw Walburga a few weeks ago. She's very much still alive and kicking."

" Bloody. Hell. _Why can these people never really be dead or stay dead.”_

“They– they aren’t _zombies_ , you know.”

“Whatever you say, now back to the story. One of the two of them were a terrible person and the other one still is, and they didn't want us to get along or something stupid like that, I don't know. It’s kind of backfiring on them now, though. I can remember them staring at him, calmly, and they were just like, 'I thought it was best that we do some redecorating around here. Tidy things up a little bit.' This statement would have made sense out of context, since it was around Christmastime, but nobody in their right minds thinks that that is a good design decision. Regulus went, 'I was thinking we could maybe go with some garland, or something that's red and green, or perhaps a Christmas tree?' They allowed a tree, but anything red was, evidently, out of the question."

"It was a bloody Christmas tree, and they made it all about Hogwarts houses, as if red wasn't already a color  before  we started school!" Regulus, annoyed to this day, rolls his eyes. “Gryffindor didn’t invent the color red!”

"And that's the story about how we still don't know what inspired them to do something like that. I don't think we'll ever know, either. Our entire family are completely insane. The End!"

"Well, that was eventful," Minerva says, looking mildly amused as per usual when it comes to this group. "But, since our stop is up, so can you table this discussion for later?"

"Sure, that was the end of the story anyway."

The double doors open. Regulus helps Harry to his feet, and they exit. After a few seconds, the other three follow them.

*

Hogwarts does not get any less beautiful with age. If anything, it gets more and more pretty. The old, magical building shows typical signs of wear and tear, but nothing that even slightly indicates any severe damage or deterioration. 

Poppy Pomfrey, predictably, is waiting for them by the doors that lead straight into the Great Hall. Around them, students are rustling about; some stop to stare at the odd group they all make, but most of the kids and young adults are much more focused on the most important thing to them currently: their final tests for the semester, and their upcoming Christmas break. Most of the older students just can’t be bothered. 

Less predictably, Poppy notices Sirius and almost tries to pull him into a hug before getting a hold on herself, and stepping back. However, when all he does is blink at her, and very clearly does not refuse the affection, she steps forward again.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," she mutters, now that she’s pulling back and getting a good, solid look at him. "You're practically skeletal! This isn’t right.”

Sirius only shrugs. That part, at least, he knows for a fact is not his fault. He bets if other people were in his situation, they wouldn't be eating very much either- even if there was much to eat in the first place, which in Azkaban, there was not. "Well, I tried to eat," is all he tells her, which is mostly true. He was a bit distracted from his hunger, anyway. 

Poppy tsks. "We should head inside. Follow behind me, then.”

He does so. So do Remus and Regulus. Minerva, picking up on the unspoken fact that the two Blacks and Remus (who is so close to the two Blacks that he may as well be an honorary one already), are very much not in the state to worry over Harry, takes the boy along with her and heads inside the building, though not to the Hospital Wing like everyone else is going. 

(They'll feel bad about it later, and they'll feel like bad not quite parents, but in their defense, they really  were  quite distracted, and Minerva really does not mind watching over the child. Sometimes it’s kind of enjoyable. He isn't even very hard to handle; he's sweet, inquisitive, gentle, and very loving. It's a good combination of traits for him to have: it’s both all his parents, and none of them at all. He is himself, no matter how many people will look at him and think otherwise in the future, where people will know him as the Boy Who Lived. He is just a baby.)

"Wait," Sirius suddenly says, as they enter the miraculously empty hospital wing. It’s not the nonexistent people he’s worried about, though. “Wait. Remus."

"Yes?" Remus calls back. 

Sirius shoots a quick look at Regulus out of the corner of his eye. What does his little brother know about the full moon? About Remus? So, he tries on some subtly, ignoring the fact that he has never really been much good at it. He hopes it won’t fail him for once. “Um. If... you don't want to be alone tonight, I can come with you?" He doesn't mean for it to sound as hesitant as it does, but he doesn't take the offer back. He means it, no matter how clumsily he says it, and he really does want to help. The presence of any of the other Animagi– whether it be James, Peter, or Sirius, but especially the last boy of the three– always seemed to end up better for Remus in the long run than when he's forced to be alone during the full moons. He comes out of it with less bruises, little to no broken bones, a lot less scars... all of those very good results. (That's not to say that there's not still some that occur even with the presence of a stag, a large black dog, or a rat, but the injuries are much less severe this way. That's literally the whole point of why the Marauders decided to learn that special Animagi ability in the first place, and it had helped tremendously over the years. Despite the potential three years in Azkaban if caught, they never looked back, and they never once ended up regretting it.) He rushes to add, “I mean. If you're alright with that, of course." Due to the war contributing to Remus and Sirius' mistrust of one another, Sirius really isn't sure of what footing they're on now, even though the truth is out and Peter is almost certainly going to spend his own quality time in Azkaban because of it. 

Poppy drags Sirius over to a bed that's pushed up against one of the walls, over all the way across the room. Remus follows in long strides; Poppy, predicting this, has already pulled a chair out to place next to the bed. It's been a long enough time that this sort of routine– one in the hospital being treated for one thing or the other, the other waiting at his bedside, only leaving if absolutely necessary– is nothing new to her anymore. The one positive she recognizes is that she can at least count on the two of them, now as adults and no longer as reckless, irresponsible children, to keep to themselves and not wreck her wing or shout so loud that they disturb the students that are studying a few rooms over. 

"Sirius, are you sure about this? I don't want to put that kind of stress on you."

"You won't be putting any stress on me. I just want to help you and do what’s best for you. You know that... right?" Sirius is sincere as he stares into Remus' eyes. This sort of argument is so normal and natural between them that it takes everything in Sirius not to either let out a sigh of relief or just swoon over how in love he still really is. 

Guess time doesn't change everything, does it now? 

"Sirius, you just got out of prison, I can't possibly allow you to do something so stupid such as-“

"Remus. We both know that this'll help you. And if it's helping you, then it's helping me. I don’t know how you don’t know this by now.”

"That's... that's really bad logic, Sirius. Look. You're not healthy, and that won't bode well for either me or you, but especially you, especially if you cared at all about your own health the way I do. Then you’d see how bad it is.”

"Who says I'm not healthy?" Sirius wondered, but he didn’t sound all that offended by it. 

"Me. I did. Just now."

"But I'm really fine, honest! I mean, look at me! Would an unhealthy person be able to do this?" He clambers to his feet, ignoring the tsking sounds Poppy is making, double checks to make sure that only the four of them are present, and transforms into Padfoot without any prior warning.

Even though Remus doesn’t seem very phased at all, Regulus can’t help but jump. He must move at least two feet in the air: although startled herself, Poppy is actually applauding him. Both of them, actually. She seems to be commending Regulus for his jump at the same time as she's chastising Sirius for being a literal animal. Even though she’s lecturing him, the fact remains that she was applauding him just seconds prior. 

"This is incredibly illegal, Mr. Black. It'll earn you at least three years of time in Azkaban if you're caught."

If a dog could shrug, he would have done so then. 

Nothing changes.

"Fine," Poppy sighs, before returning back to her default expression: stern. "But you can only remain like this for five minutes. If you're not back to normal by then, I will have no choice but to find a way to reverse... this. I really do have to examine you, and I am not a vet."

Padfoot huffs. He sounds awfully like his human version when he makes that sound.

"And don't get any fur on my carpet!"

He sighs his agreement. 

Five minutes later, though, just as she swore to do, Poppy forces him to be human again.

"Rude," he scoffs, as she manhandles him back onto the hospital bed of her choosing. 

"So you say. Just stay put for once, will you?"

He crosses his arms, appearing very displeased, but he does obey. He also picks up his thread of conversation again. “See, Moony? I swear, I'm fine. It'll all be fine. So, am I coming with you or aren't I?"

Remus doesn't answer for a few long seconds. "You aren't going to give up on this, are you?"

"Not when it's about your happiness or your safety. So, no. I'm not."

"Where does my happiness even slightly factor into this?"

"Well. You ending up less hurt leaves you happier, which leaves me happier, which results in good days had by both of us. Plus, I just..." he huffs and crosses his arms tighter. Stricken by sudden vulnerability, he finds the off-white wall in front of him incredibly fascinating. You know, as if he hasn't seen this particular wall dozens of times along the years “I really hate seeing you hurt."

"And I appreciate that, but like I've been trying to get at, we are at a somewhat hospital because of... everything. The recent events, obviously, but for all I know there’s probably underlying issues and not just in your health... I just don’t know if this is the best timing.”

"Moony, we have never had good timing even once in the history of ever. What's different now?"

He tries to offer a rebuttal for that one, but... 

Yeah. No. He's got nothing.

Like Sirius can tell that Remus is caving, he grins.

"Great, so we're all settled, then?"

"Now, wait just a minute, I didn’t agree to anything-“

"Nope. No waiting. We're all settled, business concluded."

"I think you're just trying to avoid thinking about things you can't control, so you're just obsessing over me today-" he motions up and down over Sirius' body, especially his tiny stomach, which more than anything emphasizes how much weight he's lost.

Sirius can't take it anymore. Without even realizing he's doing it, he sighs, huffs up, and blurts out a statement that’s deafeningly loud in the otherwise dead silent hospital wing. 

"I'm doing this because I love you, Remus!”

For a beat or two, Remus does nothing but stare. 

"...You still love me?"

Behind them, Regulus wisely decides that he probably has his required answer by now... and that he really does not need to be around for this. The two men need their own space right now. He juts a thumb behind him, where the way out is placed. "I'm just... going to go..." It falls on deaf ears. Sirius and Remus now only have eyes and ears for each other. Anything else just, simply, no longer exists. "I’m going to go and... find Harry and MInerva, or something. Or have my talk with Dumbledore."

Still, they don't acknowledge him. 

_I wonder how long it'll take before they get so close Poppy has to forcibly remove Remus from the hospital bed_ , he thinks. Technically, Remus is not on the bed yet, but he's very, very close to it. The longer him and his ex- even though it doesn't look like they'll be exes for much longer- speak, he inches closer and closer, almost as if he can't bear to be apart from him any longer. 

(Regulus can relate. Just... not the way Remus is feeling, of course.)

Poppy, though, looks away from her work for just a second to nod at him. "I know I'm not who you were talking to, but he's in his office."

"Yeah. Sorry, I was trying to let those two know where I'm going."

She shakes her head. "No point in it. They'd probably be rather cross at you for interrupting right now, anyway."

He nods toward them, and does not disagree. “So, how do you think this is going to go?"

She follows his gaze. As predicted, Remus is now pushing Sirius aside so he can sit with him, very obviously holding his hand and smiling so gushily, (as is Sirius), that Regulus cannot  wait  to tease them about it.

Poppy smiles and watches the two interact like a couple of lovestruck teenagers.

"They'll get back together in no time. I just know it."


End file.
